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Poem

In these delicate periods like pots of clay
You know that it's not a time for play 
As a certified Lord, I never run away 
Even when I seems to be pulled astray

I pray to make it back in one piece 
As i drift in search for a world of peace
The streets are turning into war zones
It's why my pen seems to be driven by hormones

Nobody makes it from your end
Were the words that became a trend
In order to put them all in silence 
I had to become a Lord with a license

Sure as hell that it wasn't easy
But the story cannot always be greasy
So my greatest wish for my friends
Is that they also break up the trends

Even when I seem to be mean
You should know that I need a place to lean
Bcos i don't want my name to be rubished
For me to shine like a shoe that's polished.

#POETICLORD#

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