I'm gone.
Its done.
I'm lost
Zero trust.
Left it in the dust.
Its rusting.
Over my time.
Lost in crime.
This is my last rhyme.
Its moving too fast.
We crash.
My skull cracks against the dash.
Full of rhyming tracks.
I dont give a care.
It isn't fare.
People wouldn't dare.
Now people stare.
As I have my distant glare.
As in m bleeding in the fare.
I'm sliding to my immediate death.
I take my last breath of air.
It's a blur.
Almost like Ric Flare.
I'm finally free,
Easy trade.
Notes:no idea who ric flare is and have no idea how the fuck to spell it. So yeah, only know he's a thing because eminem lol.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry : A King's Poverty
PoetryA description of a king is almost defined by the way there Kingdom is perceive "Perfect" Nobody knows that, the ruler of the Land wears two crowns with two different coronation, One crown is for his might, the other is the side he never shows. As yo...
