Book of Rhymes: A Verse A Day Keeps The Blues Away

I say a verse a day
Keeps the blues away
He say, she say
Inspired me to one day
Be one of those whom they refer to when they say, ‘they say’
When they say, ‘they say’
Who is they?
Hopefully me, one day
I want to be quoted by the lay
Looked up to
like I do
to Wale
Recognized as a Poet
Artistic recognition, is the way
That I want to go, keep my critics at bay
And keep my doubts, even farther away
What more can I say?

I’ve reached my pinnacle like Jay
On the Black Album, only to return to make you pay
Your dues, for my limits are like the fay
They do not exist, since I’m molded by the one created in May
My pinnacle is always rising
Cause I’m as infectious as Ay Bay Bay
In the club, hollering o-Gay ugz-May
Spit in Pig atin-Lay
ecause-Bay I o-Day hat-Way I ant-Way
Always ameliorating my raft-Cay
Shout-out to Kanye, Who Gon Stop Me?
I guess a verse a day really does keep the damn blues away!

(Chorus Instrumental Interlude)

Day 2
Feeling uncouth
Because I’m not in a booth
But instead spitting rhymes in public, correction: I speak truth

It’s typical
For the overly literal
Material of my mind
To be contemplating others during me time
Sipping on these minerals
Mind strays to venereal
Wish I had some cereal
With this milk, bowl of cheerios
Call my Mysterio
My rhymes are surreal
Elucid imagery evokes an intelligent illusion
Illuminating your pineal
Comprehension will induce a cranial contusion
For my, confucian solution
To stress, is the fusion
Of Rhythm And Poetry
Inducing a mental ablution
Malfoy, Lucien

I just went off on random tangents there
To illustrate the way my mind moves quicker than a hare
Just broke the 4th wall too, conventions ain’t my style
But I am not a hipster
I’m simply avant-garde

[Remove Hipster Glasses]

(Chorus Instrumental Interlude)

Verse 3
The finale
Honestly, I can say
That I built up a lot of hype in my mind
Agonizing over every line
Though my heart screams, DALE!
Perfectionist tendencies VS. What YOLO taught me

Honesty hour:
I’m never proud of anything that I write
I don’t think I’m a good Writer, Rapper or Poet
I’m surprised whenever someone praises me, they’re just being nice

Ever since I turned 13
I swore to be a microphone fiend
And fear is no longer, gonna stop me
Shout-out to Weezy, cause ‘I ain’t got no worries’
Every single time I ran away, rap pulled me back
Heard ‘Friend Of The People’ and gave up, but I came back
I love rap too much
To give up
I lust
After the intricate pattern, of multi-syllabic gatherings of words
Its absurd
How alive diction makes me feel
I’m a word nerd, you heard?
And in can be inferred
From the M.O that I murdered
This beat
Modus Operandi, bring more fire than ‘The Heat’

Confidence issues
Go askew
Cause like the lion Simba, I was born to lead
No more will I be bothered by the opinions of a few
The only opinion that matters is me
So I vow to no longer fret
Over whether I have the confidence
To be a rapper
Cause I’m a dapper
Mapper of the human condition, with more hats than the Mad Hatter
What is the matter?

Do you not hear the pitter-patter
From the heavens
As Thor sheds tears, when He’s blessed with the presence
Of my verbose diction, simply listening is a blessing
Effervescent coalescence of anti-malevolence
Oh crap, all I have left is a second
I guess there’s only one thing left to say:
You’re welcome

Time for another #ThrowbackThursdays! This is another piece from my Book of Rhymes which was an experiment I did while Draking one summer. I wasn’t in the happiest of places but I knew I loved to write and didn’t do enough of it so I vowed to write one verse each day for three days straight and see if it helped me feel any better. What do you think I concluded from the experiment?


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