Baby Food for Thought

Baby Food for Thought
By: Uriah “The CivILLian” Walters

You get no piece of me
Not a morsel
Nor a fragment
Not even a bite.

No matter how much I mush it down for your taste buds to decipher
And force feed a portion of myself to your hollow abode
I just can’t seem to be digested.

You salivate a hunger and crave for satisfaction
To which I can’t make myself of any avail

So long as your teeth have not matured enough so as to help you understand.

I have no title for this...

Verse 1:

Now, This is somnolence
With nonchalant carelessness
They call it a lazy man’s fearlessness
For some reason, my confidante’s embarrassment
Seems to be rellished in
My lack of sentiment
I’m only looking for the evidence
Where my experiments
Held present tense hesitence
That I dared to grip
And could barely spit
As I was fairly jipped
By the glares equipped
Within the stares from whence
Came a pair of intense
Piercing eyes from the chairs where blends of diverse ears’ll find
An impairment of reverse gears
Inclined to steer drive
And fear to try to clear the mind
From a nightmare
Right there where the sight bares
Quite scary visions of plight
Varying in its prize due to tarrying
in the lines where they cherish sheeple
Whom cry in a merry steeple for
Pi to give angry people
A slice seen through several peepholes
To vy from detestable evils
Oh why
Do they say I wrestle with this ego?

Verse 2:

Now, Where is the common sense
That the common man has dismissed
And done replaced with a fabric gift
Composed of platinum coating
and some plastic lips
That give a “magic” kiss
That bestows placidness
To shutdown worry and effort
Just to transit this:
A fresh new brand of wit
That only commands you submit
Then, you and your mans could get
All that you demand and wish
Including the ransom for which
Got you handled and whipped
Rattled and ripped
With a gradual drip of tears when you cry
From that smashed hip and spazzing glitch near your spine
Along with Massa’s grip to your shackled wrists, ears and eyes
To put a fear in your mind
And a spirit that dines off of veering your sight
Into a nightmare
Right there where the sight bares
Quite scary visions of plight
Varying in its prize due to tarrying
in the lines where they cherish sheeple
Whom cry in a merry steeple for
Pi to give angry people
A slice seen through several peepholes
To vy from detestable evils
Oh why
Does the whole world wrestle with this ego?

Verse 3:

Now, There goes the dominance
That got lost in our “awesomeness”
And boastfulness spat across our lips
With the power of a Hyper-tuned Rocket ship
Leaving its exhaust to drift
Believing you’ll call it quits
The dynamics of our words echo
When we claim “I’m the sh..
And you don’t want this…”
That’s us being dauntless
And we make silly promises
As long as you spot us with
Money
Our words pocket pick
Everytime you’re watchin’ us
In our defense, it’s like we are heaven sent
Thus here’s the fine
For when you thought our scripts were fradulence with sheer decline
Towards true heartfulness with imparted gifts, or were WE blind
To just get on our grind
And make billions of dimes
While the children still cry
There goes a nightmare
Right there where the sight bares
Quite scary visions of plight
Varying in its prize due to tarrying
in the lines where they cherish sheeple
Whom cry in a merry steeple for
Pi to give angry people
A slice seen through several peepholes
To vy from detestable evils
Oh why
Do we all seem to wrestle with this ego?