Adjusting My Hat

I hear the words, masquerading as a man with a reason, which of course I have none and rather than accept it I pretend. Adjusting My Hat… I just got my hair cut and felt somewhat bald or I just like my hood; if anything it’s what’s I think?

As if I were some hood
What is it I’m hiding?
Want to know… you should
Hate what you’re not abiding
And I know you would
That’s why I’m not surviving
It’s for the common good?
From the pope’s skullcap
All I am a blunder
Is it time for a nap
Who are you my mother?
Don’t tell me I’m trapped
Still I’m not like the others
The frequency I fap

For love is quite illegal
While I wear this sombrero
Could I be more regal?
How I need the dinero
But that wouldn’t be legal
To Nevada, should I go?
Fly like an eagle

If only I could play
Don’t lose my head
I should Tebow everyday
Yeah that’s what I said
Could there be a way
Not lying here in bed
Alone another day

Should I put on my Fedora?
Will I control my fate?
Go to Bora, Bora
Just to get away
Shall I lie amongst the flora
You say it’s a mistake
Yet I want more of…

Where is my mind?
Isn’t it what’s under?
The reason and the rhymes
Everything I wonder
Mad Hatter sublime

Copyright © 2012, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Write Walls and Cages

The mind has the skull, the tongue is behind teeth, and the heart is behind bars and I realize that it is a good reason for all of that. “Write Walls and Cages” why are my fingers still out on bail or today they serve as jailers just maybe.

Can’t you keep it down
Now I’d say something dumb
but pride comes before the fall
and for that crime
we were doing the time
for all the things he thought he knew when we were young
insane in the membrane
He’s how I got my start

Only you played your part
You’re the one that brought our shame
For running your tongue
crossing every damn line
Are you that blind?
Won’t take your blame is all,
worse you’re a no good lazy bum
letting the fingers pound

Wait a minute maybe we weren’t the ones
No, no, no, “it’s” the one to blame
Damn the heart
Who knows what he’ll find
For dollars, no sense, but then some DIME
Maybe we shouldn’t be so loud
He lives in a cage but um
That’s why he can’t read the writing on the wall

You were meant to be confined
Why must we remind

Copyright © 2017 Second Circle Creations, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.