At times these rhymes in my mind I find drive me to be perplexed
So Stressed I suggest that I’m hexed
Or am I blessed with this quest to contest the path that’s pressed?
Nevertheless I let these thoughts run its course
Never forced to grab the torch and second guess with remorse
I sort shit practically
Never consumed with the art of fallacy
My gift is to sift through the transparency
Clear as day I see through the pretentiousness
So my rhetoric will always rebel to what society considers etiquette