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Sean Rocha Poem
Finally just finishing up. I haven't been working on this one very consistently, but I like it,
because it's actually helping me fit in a variety of emotion that I've been feeling over the
time that I've been writing it. There's one and 2/3s of a verse here, lol. Can't wait to finish it
up to record ...
It's a bit of a repost (the first twelve lines in the first verse), so I'm sorry about that lol.
I'll apply fact to the matter as a matter of fact - Fact doesn't matter.
I'm a time traveler, through mind travel, possibilities unfathomable.
Rather call a truce instead of battling dudes, 'cause I lack the unbattleable
lyrics that other rappers produce - In other words, I'm not too good yet...
I'll only spit what my mindset happens to induce, from past, to the future, and the present.
and I'll only spit with the intention of resinating a malleable essence.
Trouble? Forget it - ****, a vibe like this is nothing to mope around with.
Sober for weeks - with love for my music and girl like this - no need to take another hit...
Success is in tact but there's still scattered parts of an emotional disaster to gather.
A staggering semi-mastery of blasphemous metempsychosic abuse through psychological
self-battery;
actually self-betterment, for the sake of adversity. Almost gradually, rapture comes back to
me
to reattach my physical being to my mind happily - that's the first time in a while...
But y'know, nothing's ever been taken from me without a fair trial..
And I've never lived a moment with a mindset bleeding even mild denial.
My mind's a more practical tool to use than a brute's tire iron,
and to tell you a truth, I'm a damn good liar.
A verse upon a verse, never upon a herse - Yeah, let's get this **** straight.
I just spit work, and I guess I'm alright - I'm never the shark bait
For other MCs who might brave the gallows; they're just gallows candidates.
Just too arrogant, and a bit irate - no wait - Just skeptical; but Agnosticism always lacks
debate.
Guess I'm a killer MC with real rhymes iller than your senseless fantasies,
but conjouring tradgedies is just a formality when it comes to my whack travesty.
'Cause when I rhyme, I tend to commit Hip-Hop blasphemy as I spit words erratically -
Self inflicted insanity and circumstantial vanity, with a mask I hide well,
But a bag of my self-doubt turned inside out induces nothing but stress off my back, and
water spouts.
I could be oceanic like a Modest Mouse provided that that the water would never run out.
Copyright © Sean Rocha | Year Posted 2010
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Details |
Sean Rocha Poem
I'll apply fact to the matter as a matter of fact - Fact doesn't matter.
I'm a time traveler, through mind travel, possibilities unfathomable.
Rather call a truce instead of battling dudes, 'cause I lack the unbattleable
lyrics that other rappers produce - In other words, I'm not too good yet...
I'll only spit what my mindset happens to induce, from past, to the future, and the present.
and I'll only spit with the intention of resonating a malleable essence.
Trouble? Forget it - S***, a vibe like this is nothing to mope around with.
Sober for weeks - with love for my music and girl like this - no need to take another hit...
Success is in tact but there's still scattered parts of an emotional disaster to gather.
A staggering semi-mastery of blasphemous metempsychosic abuse through psychological
self-battery;
actually self-betterment, for the sake of adversity. Almost gradually, rapture comes back
to me
to reattach my physical being to my mind happily - that's the first time in a while...
Just an incomplete Hip-Hop verse that I figured I would post here... The Stranger.
Copyright © Sean Rocha | Year Posted 2010
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