by DARYL
Constantly on fire and soaring like a planet.
Never look back, I start forward like I was Mickael Pietrus.
Warm inhabitation, fire place, room is velvet.
Parents come in at 12:00 wondering why I’m not in bed yet.
The reason is, I’m working on my rhymes, not giving two thoughts about the time.
I’m the center of attention, but still get around like the sun in orbit.
I promised my family and friends I’d made it big, so they call be “Orbit.”
I’m high on top, with my high top, never faded.
7th grade I was unattractive and my shoes were outdated.
I felt degraded, but yet everyone around me was still so bold.
Middle of the summer, stuck daydreaming, my body feeling cold.