The Writing World

I’m slowly on my way to the top in the writing world

while other writers read my work and they recognize its real philosophical chocolate with a swirl

I don’t mean to put a rest to the other writing careers

too bad what I write is truthful and instills the greatest fears

there isn’t room for the rest of the watered down garbage to co-exist

they’ve been washed up by their own wave, and now their stuck laughing to reminisce

there wasn’t any trouble implied when my name came into this game to expose lames

my picture remains solidified dignified legitimized peacefully on the frame

my next novel: Ladies Prism won’t just leave the women in a state of shock

it will get some of the dirtiest men after me to call the writing world cops

my 3rd novel coming out in late September will break the barriers to show everyone I’m twice as nice

not trying to boast or brag, but that novel will have to be read twice

if not, the comprehension won’t be fully acquired, just desired

everything I write is meant to inspire

my ornithology pulled the autecology from under me–resulting in an everlasting soar

the only time I touch ground is when you hear my lions roar

protecting the cubs, so their first taste of love is true blood

back in the day my enemies left them soaked up, while screaming they were a shady thug

The False Reality Of Martin already is in motion on its path to make some real men cry

if you don’t believe me, then give it a read because the only way to hold in your tears will be to constantly sigh

bestselling authors, musicians, and serious celebrities are knowing my name

always under the impression of composure to remain tame

I didn’t ask for any of this to turn into something big

that’s why I’m slowly blowing up, while these other writers continue to live the brittle life of a twig

knowledge that is refrained from entering your membrane on a lie

once it’s inside the neurological pathway of hope it will never die


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