sketch
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With a pencil in hand, I sit with a mind wide open
The blank space lays patiently until I see the lines
behind my eyes ready to melt through my fingers.
Tip to page, the graphite wears thin
Red and green bows
Puffy, flared skirts
Ballerinas,
An instructor standing in the middle of the hall
All attention focused on him
With his long staff in hand
And then I see them
The girls,
Before I was born everybody joined the conspiracy
So no I'm pouring out my tears, got to do it lyrically
Trying not to say it, cause aint nobody feeling me
It’s like every time I try to reveal
