I don't really like to eat that many steaks,
God given soul that sometimes creates,
Got tattooed on my muscle Heaven's gates,
Steadily separated from those fraudulent fakes,
To follow this path, many steps it actually takes,
Lost nearly all that I considered to be my mates,
Life isn't just partying and eating birthday cakes,
Staying away from demonic rhymes like Drake's,
I've got some rap records, not enough for crates,
Stop searching for names, one decides our fates.
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Author:
Shaunmatthewcpoetry (
Offline) - Published: December 2nd, 2025 03:34
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 35
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS
Offline)
Comments3
A rap indeed this poem spins and spits its message from beginning to end. Well done
Cheers very much.
Most welcome
An aside, or a distraction from me! In reading of stages of team-building I wrote this. I'm gonna rap! lol:
'Ohh there are stages of team-forming
There's a-forming and a-storming (storming can include arguments - ooh!)
Then a-norming and a-performing (norming is becoming 'normal', whatever that is!)
Then when all's done, there's an-adjourning'.
Hahaha nice!
This reads and rhymes like rap, my friend., Absolutely love the flow of this one! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Nice one mate!
😄
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