by My Poem
by Manticore Storms
My poem is of me. It is of I.
My poem is of life. Not knowing when I will die.
See my poem is one to one, fist to fist.
Learn about me, and the life with a twist.
Everyday I come, not knowing how to leave.
Waiting for the bell, the bell to do what I please.
People talk, I guess that's just how it is.
People talk about me, and the life, with a grip.
Lies is what they call it, lies of us.
Untruthful words, the time of the unjust.
I can help you learn, learn how to keep close.
Keep close to the ones, that help you the most.
by Manticore Storms
My poem is of me. It is of I.
My poem is of life. Not knowing when I will die.
See my poem is one to one, fist to fist.
Learn about me, and the life with a twist.
Everyday I come, not knowing how to leave.
Waiting for the bell, the bell to do what I please.
People talk, I guess that's just how it is.
People talk about me, and the life, with a grip.
Lies is what they call it, lies of us.
Untruthful words, the time of the unjust.
I can help you learn, learn how to keep close.
Keep close to the ones, that help you the most.
