Laureate's Gambit #IAM
"Laureate's Gambit"
100 percent, nothing less
I have no choice but to give it all
Every ounce of my being is being tested
I'm overcoming fears of neglection (neglect)
I'm besting the best part of me
Teaching myself lessons that are ones for the record
a little food for thought if you're able to digest it
all of my hopes are resting on this final trump card
and it really hits my stomach charge like an all or nothing summit charge
as this ace in the hole dictate's whether I'm all in or fold
going for the hard earned gold or quick silver that's always sold
So I have no choice but to give everything I have or else I've sold my soul
So then I guess ill be sold out
And if I sold out my soul doubt that makes me role out whenever its time to roll out
then maybe I'd realize that it maybe a different ballgame each time
But it's still old bouts
Because these archaic old doubts seem to arise whenever its time for me to my soul out
Letting out these bold spouts
Making me contradict myself in a hot web of lies that makes me revelize (revelation)
so now: Let out these cold spouts that only poets no about
Counteract with a base in my voice and a bold snout
The truth
For the truth sets us free like phoenix's rising from ashes
For we put ourselves in the line of fire, just to quench the flames of uncertainty
In the hearts of those, who do not know there place among hell on earth
We are here to light a way
We are the philosophers and philanthropists
We are the people
We are all poets, we each have our own story but not equal
We are the laureates, we are the best
They say actions speak louder than words but they have never heard us yet
Because we spit and spew the words problems in text
We carry the cross of our own crucifixion on our backs and chest and yet
This is the reality of our quest
This is not fiction, this is nonfiction
Genius linguistics, beyond spittin'
Written on fertile and virgin paper which we make come to fruition
for generations of poets this is tradition
and in edition
Best case scenario our work is loved and we make world renown editions
The risky life of the laureates mission
We come from all walks of life and all shapes and sizes
and like finger prints, we all have different styles
You have those who talk about sex and those who speak celibate
Those who be talking with slang and those who speak, really eloquent
Those who speak with a purpose and those who put random words and sayings in there pieces for the hell of it
And those who were brought in good school systems and private schools
and those, like me brought up in a school system with bad principles and terrible class
Yet still I walk out with perfect etiquette, flawlessly using my subjects and predicates now
Don't believe me, just listen to my words and you'll see
That every piece I write has a little bit of me
I make mental pictures with my words for you to see
That means I, myself, am the picture so go ahead and frame me
Frame ME!!!
and if this criminal creativity then go ahead and frame me cause I will gladly confess to this artistry because this is my life
You want to know who I am, listen to what I have to say
Listen and remember
Remember, remember ME, remember my words, remember me
Remember me, remember me when its all over
When I was supposed to have had enough because my cup will never runneth (run) over because my life is an open book
And these words, I spew them all
Just to get my point across to ya'll, whether I rise it does not matter because the poet
spills it all
MY journey begins within and with end, and all my soul has written
And I stand here spilling my guts out to ya'll
I pore my life on a page just for you to examine this beast from the opposite stand point view of the stage
I do not need fancy words, and witty wordplay
Just to get my point across like a tightrope walker
Hoping my words wont fall on depth ears
I just bridge the gap between my message and your understanding
And these words become the middle ground
and this paper becomes the material which this road is built on
So with this pen
grasped within my hands
I begin to explore the canvas we call paper with these strands
Of thoughts that flow through my mind
My whole life unravels before me
Some stories of pain and depression and others of glory
So with this pen,
clasped within my fist
I being to explore myself through my own slit wrists
For the pen is my knife, the paper is my skin
And the ink is the blood that I draw from within
Who am I? I am a poet
Who am I? I am a laureate
Who am I? I AM ME
and what I down on these pieces of paper are story