Mad Rhymes

Wanna hear some mad rhymes?

Not the mad you are thinking of.

The kind that's derived from wasting fifteen minutes of

my rhymes.

My brain power.

Unappreciated prose.

It feels f*****g vapid.

I'm a vacuous soul.

Like a spiders victim

I swing to and fro

on a web

empty

dead.

I'm a shell swinging cold.