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The Beat

Don’t give me shit,

It just don’t fit.

I ride my BMW

Down the street

Where the elite live.

No one looks at me.

I don’t mob liquor stores.

Money bores me;

You need it of course,

But you are too young and clever,

And what ever happens

I accept as finality.

I was thinking the same thing.

Ding Ding,

Enter the ring once more

First punch means something.

 

Published inAllegoriesAnthropomorphismSeeing Within & Without