help is on the way

There is a sign on your mind

That says Help wanted

You once spat bullets

Now you’re mute and muzzled

Spat so hard that your voice is shot

So you make me, plead the second to commit murder in the first

When you dance with the devil you’re gonna get burned

When judgment beckons plead the fifth and court the judge with ballads and verse

I won’t give you a voice but can stir your space

Cause I’m the type of writer that uses typewriters

My arms bear claws that interject a space

a pauze thats indicts sentences to long periods of subjection.

And when a paragraph can’t draw up a conclusion

I underline my statement with a pair of graphs to negate all possible confusion  

You you usurper!

You, you iron fisted ruler

I, I court jester, news caster

I oppose, I am opposition.

my prose I suppose is juxtaposition

I take a stand. My stance isn’t happenstance

Use rulers to underline the lines i cast

Put the sharks’ fishy business on display

The writing’s on the wall

Projected like a telepromter

So let’s come undone together

Watch our dreams fall

To catch them with bare arms

So you make me, plead the second to commit murder in the first

When you dance with the devil you’re gonna get burned

When judgment beckons plead the fifth and court the judge with ballads and verse

Thoughts drip from the ducts in our heads as if we transpire

as we open mouths or talk between teeth

when we spit bullets we admit our defeat

Speech is lost in time as if our thoughts boarded speech balloons

Like airships that no longer dock the Empire State spire

faintly faded phrases shot like the 4^th of July

and all that’s left is basket cases

disarmed, dismembered, disembodied
Grounded   

There’s a sarcophagus for all of us

and the writing’s on the wall

Use aerosol to mark buildings tall

And have words rise above 

Help is on the way

when the mind is imprisoned like in the state pen

state your thoughts with pens

Free speech from the pen. Man, ship files to break prison bars

So, I plead the second: the right to bear arms

To have the burn fuel airships over skyscraper and barn

Wildly gesture like jesters to guide them on their way

Cause writing lasts but that’s what you’ll never hear me say