The Miseducation of Daisy Wilts
I'm am made up of dust blown up to a being
My skin red like dirt
Hair as dark as midnight
Short in stature
Vivid in heart
I part ways like moses
And grow like moss
The inner workings of my mind is
Made up of
Galaxies of memories and fantasies
Casually taking and giving
My mind is made up hip hop
De la
Da wu
DA tribe
And the essence of incense
Left by the leftover aura of soul
Visually I enjoy the baroque
And take in Caravaggio to a late evening breakfast
Dressed in jeans and sneakers
Hair wild like basquiat
Value of a warhol
Presence of a Pollock
And Demeter of a poet
Seamless and unforgiving
Lifeless yet yearning for a spot
In your conscious
Stressed with gray hairs
Life long learner and sinner
Bless to go the places and spaces
To see the unknown
Live like kings
Endowed in sports apparel
And bucket hats
Only lusting to be heard
Music aged like wine
Only best to be served by vinyl
And kept in crates
I'm a soulful aristocratic
Rich in mind and thought
Not in pocket
Family know me as Lex
And friends know me as king
But you can call me Daisy Wilts