I savor my words, a connoisseur of diction
What is the point in discussing purposeless matters of fiction?
My way with words cannot be bandied about, purpose behind diction
Cold cuts of words, no gout. No doubt, in my mind
That what I speak is the truth
Confident in my insecurities to let loose and release
A verbal barrage of lyrical imperfection
Mental projection
Manifestation of my destiny
Can't you see?
Big words and speaking fast makes me think I sound smart
Impressing others secondary to creating art
What is art?
Created for the recognition and appraisal of others
The only accurate depiction of lovers
Justification for men moving back in with their mothers
Helps your eyes roll back when you're under the covers
So I talk to myself and I talk to others
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