It doesn’t grow out of my scalp
As twining locks,
It won’t rent my clothes to rag,
It ignites my body electric,
It crawls beneath my skin,
It pours out of my eyes in tears,
It agitates my senses to frenzy,
It deprives me my night rest.
I won’t dance on the street,
To this beat in my head.
I wont chase after kids,
Roll it up in joints
Nor smoke it in pipes.
I’ll mould it in bricks,
Raise it as walls,
And deck it upon my head.
Set it as a cockpit,
Challenge the time to a fist fight,
Wrestle until I beat the time (consistently).
“I beat the time,
I can set the world on fire!”
But I’m confined inside my head,
Like demise is right beyond these balustrades,
Or I’m just crazy