You’ve put me in a box
But I’ve been thinking out of it.
Tryna tick me off
But I won’t fit in your category.
My mind’s been moon walking.
That’s not smooth talking.
I’m literally in my shoes hopping
over used coffins, now who’s scoffing?
That’s right, and you can’t stop me.
Call me Luke cos I’m skywalking.
Taking a stroll with hands in my side pockets.
Straddling the stratosphere in my skyrocket.
Shoot your mouth, I’ll shoot for the stars.
I’m raising these roofs while you look for them bars.
Call that a blow job cos I’m a terrorist.
I’m a martyr with my words when I tear a wrist.
Jon Lau- 4th April 2022
ILLiteratepoet 