Flow-etry

Like a leg spasm, a bad egg
right in the back, weakening
saw the truth in your speech, awakening
now you try and act like you know everything
and ain't nothing wrong with that if you actually knew anything
but you don't so now you got this game going like boggle
actually, more like trouble

you empty my mind with the most discerning things
positive view through negative clues
disguising as a hero among the zeros
and it's all over when you let the words escape your teeth
make you look suspicious among your own critics
and now you see, drop the act and be real.

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cold octobers night, ready to check out the sights
of a beat up town, like the end of a prizefighter fight (lost)
but when the bottles empty, everything gets nasty
chaos consumes one soul fueled by the alcohol
a grown mans milk bottle
puts him to sleep and if he still can't dream
he'll turn to the demise of the streets
the houses, the people, everything looks scrumptious
in the eyes of the beerholder, sees bolder
liquid courage jerking you into a seizure gone postal

and even now the bed looks comfy, but strange thoughts got me thinking
"is god putting me to the test?" ahh fuck it, i'll deal with it while i rest.