My Control
without a method to my madness, i have pen and paper
a childhood thought unravels on a page in rhyme
not caring if they are teachers, lawyers, or aldermen
the wheels start turning, a finished poem in no time
i dont care what you say, i don't care what you heard
i can write like this, or I can write like that
each poem is the same, just with different words
i can change my style, or my subject just like a hat
i can't work the middle all the time, i fall off a lot
i have no more control over writing, than you over breathing
each line i write pulls me closer to knowing the plot
to give up on my freedom of course, that is not living
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