Where You At

Whats wakened this poor poets heart not a meager start...... no, that wouldn't roust him from his den ..... perhaps, a meager end let's pretend destiny is ours to tend.... the internet has handed the world to us arm chair god's and monday morning quarterbacks legends of the keyboard who can't even fill our own sneakers Hey, but I'll shoot for the stars and higher who are you to call me a liar media dj keep me spinin' this records titanium and you all just hatin' we got girls and boys tradin' out clothes see which one's fit 'em swappin' all the parts and piece's whatever please 'em where your popsicle smiles at keep holdin' 'em up a tootheless one ain't so glam I can't look at you anymore T.V.'s/ mirrors tinted windows outside old dept. stores No more glass No reflections just give me sand and paper so I know my feet are touching the ground and my heart my thought touching the pen There I am