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Propane
At the heart of this art there’s a tartness that fits like a harness/
Put those pieces and bits together to finesse and furnish/
I’m breathing in the flesh here I go out of my mind in a flash/
I’m teeming to tout and sprout my divined intertwined lines/
It’s seeming I rhyme like a purified water spout your out and spew that brine slime/
Got your wit salt saturated so stop and sit then you sulk as it's curated/
A lot to shoot at with a pot to balk at after who’s muck was berated/
Solely for the souls I’ve created I’m having hopes slated/
Slowly and strategically I strain to pain these pages/
Painfully went through stages coming from outrageous cages/
Plain prayers I ploy practically as I plan my poises/
Prone pigs pricked at prose posed to oppose the pose that’s proposed/
Like propane with no flame, yeah that’s a good name as I’m a pro at pain/
I know lanes to strain the games as I’ve stained my own old game/
Had to re-tame and re-frame as I maintained to refrain/
I’m telling you now blame clowns nobody can pain me like KRG. okay G?/
As I am schooling you louts I hear your shout/
You’re a few letters short for your jacket/
Just get jagged but don’t get it twisted/
I won’t fret fracas flasks flashed in the past/
Forgetfulness forgotten as the factious family fractions be flapping jokes/
Forever flipping flops for flimsy folks/
Don’t be a fiend friend and find faith tokes
Copyright ©
Kyle Gee
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