The Big Apple (A Brief Chant)

The rooster crows at the break of dawn. I rise to write a poetic song. A look through the window, and I hear someone shout! What brings' you to the Big Apple. I say, I came, by the way of the creator. Then I replied with a night out on the town. I look and observed all around. I seen with my eyes', even though I was deprived of sleep. As the crowds gather in the streets. The crowds begin to applaud. I joined in and started to clapp, as these talented brothers and sisters, was chanting their art of rapp. I continue to stand, as the crowds' expand. What a treat it was watching these brothers and sisters break dance. I observed and learned knowing someday it'll be my turn to express a poetic song. These brothers and sisters sure can chant the art of rapp, and not only that by chance. These talented brothers and sisters, can perform the art of the break dance. I look through the window, at the break of dawn. A rooster crows, as I write a poetic song. I hear someone shout! What brings' you to the Big Apple. I said , I came, by the way of the creator.