The Last Poet

I want your memory sketched into my skin
So you and I can blend into an original design
And grow a creeping vine that cuts across hurt hearts
I write this ghetto art so it can speak to God through lost hearts
My writing speaks of strong philosophy, honesty and life lived
Kids born, loves lost, and eulogies to the dead and the poor like Robin Hood I give
I want this disease of my love to spread on arms, chests, legs and backs
Black ink billboards stored on tender flesh
Caressed by temporary thoughts of indelible sentiments
And even though physically I am not etched with ink, yet!
I will spend the rest of my spoken life inked
Because I too blink tatooed tears of loss
s###, my pain is costing the government dollar signs
s###, I wake up in the morning with scars
A three letter word makes me starve because she is my hunga
I LOVE YOU is something I will live with every night and morning in torture
I lay in my bed fiddling like a crack fiend because she has tattored all of my dreams!
But threw this writing
I have the freedom to be the painter of my spoken scripture
And the poetry lounge in Brooklyn is a church for my poetically inclined ass!
I want to stain minds with piercing poetic pictures
I wanna touch souls like Luffa Vandross did
Even though in his prime I was a kid
My 19 year old ass understood that s###!
Get personal with me ladies and gentlemen and I\'ll enlighten your soul
Hit you so deep like pin pricks delivered to your brain
Draining through your pours
See I am more than just a poet
I am a fine young man with class that\'ll make love last
like unwritten words waiting to be thought of!
So ladies please remain still so I can spark a revolution