No Title

This was supposed to be a rap,
But I got emotional.
I tried turn it into a song,
But it turned personal.

So now I'll turn it into a poem,
I guess this'll do.
I'll put it all in writing like that,
Like I'm supposed to do.

Fire thoughts into the brain,
What's this gonna do,
Hammering words down on my pad,
This'll get to you.

Venomous words that go unchanged,
The poison gets to you,
Bloodied knuckles fighting for life
I guess I'm unfriendly too.

Heat packing stay on my right,
What happens when I get close to you.
Keep dreaming, end of the line,
That's just the end for you...