Adapt-tation
Lurking behind what seems to be closed doors of exposed moderation, hold flam on the decreasing anticipation bleeding from my past,
What soft sound of potent proverbs and sub-nouns keep weighing me down, and though I smile with my riveting frown, I somehow turn life's inspiration around.
Adapting to this new vibe of young raised personality and letting love be the best of me and guiding me thought the path of my choice,
Felling hogging the right head bobbing jades my better judgement and with that I paralyze my style of life with the words of my written voice.
Under supporting the many bad habits I've complied over the years, which rain over, over exposed tears. When I break the stems of my cries I suddenly realize the complication I've come to materialize are fueled by fears.
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