Email Poem

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Poem

I am what you would call the last. 
The outcast of a breed, 
fading so fast 
that people loose track of its original art. 
Its original words spoken from the heart. 
Twisted to form a dreadfully big part of todays young minded. 
Twisted to make people live so frightened. 
I am the last of a dying breed. 
A lyricist set to bring people a new creed. 
Hope that I will make the correction. 
Hope, that I will become a legend. 
The one. The only. 
Francisco Martinez: Changed the game slowly. 
Somebody once told me: 
"your words will change a life." 
He told me I will become this generations muse. 
I took that in and believe I'll never loose. 
Still, the last of a dying breed. 
Give me a pencil and I'll personally plant the seed. 
Will personally lead the next generation of the American Dream. 
Bring back the history of the verse. 
And don't be the first,to doe of the thirst that causes this curse to only get worse 
and worse. 
Follow me my fellow lyricists. 
Believe that we will come back from this. 
Pencil at hand, let's rebel out of the abyss.

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