Circles

Bombed on insecticide, trying to hide.
How satisfied, I am with my life.
Writers block, Lack of self-reflection.
Not to mention, feeling invincible.
Words, Words, Words,
One, Two, many a words.
One, Two, many a memories.
One, Two, who grew but,
knew doom was soon.
I am not, not afraid, but
this does not mean.
I am not, not angry.
We can't stay stagnet forever.
Posted up in the same place,
talking about being a gangsta.
Talking about, talking about,
finally getting on up and walking on out.
Getting up and getting a dream.
Getting an exsistence that,
somehow means, something,
to some other being.
Life just isn't what I expected.