I'm on a tirade
one more stagnant poem
from becoming a literary renegade
once looked high above me
toward a selected few
now, all i see are dinosaurs
time for an upgrade
try something new

It is by evolution that laws are remade...
wait, am i rapping?
no..
bitten by a poet, lost in his own genre trapping
that's ok
i've already paid
blood, guts, torment
Locking myself in the devils basement
he doesn't seem to care
he has already received his payment
Easy, demon
i'm not going on a warpath with this one
i've dropped my baggage
it weighed a french tonne
i'm throwing it into your oven
it's toxic, you'd better run

So, my proprietors of a cafe called exaggeration
here is the theme of my rhyme
if you had given the time of day
to a poet who lost his way
this subtle rebuke would have been avoided

When it comes to the evocation of emotion
you poetic aristocrats don't have the guts
to drink my nostalgia