Smith

Her name was Smith

Lyrical beautiful genius

Had a body to die for

Has a mind of an architect

Mouth brimming with filth

 

A singer, poet, author, leader

A black sheep, a whore, a rock and roll nigger

Dancing barefoot pissing in the river

With middle fingers held high

On the courtyard’s steps

 

The true god-mother of anarchy

Punk’s dream queen

Smith…

 

I love a woman who can rhyme

The greatest wordsmith I’ve seen

Since I was a teen

I watched you

Outside of the politically correct bullshit

Outside of society, looking in

At the game they play

Smith…

 

I’ll hold your works close

Till you’re gone, buried, and rotted

To nothing but ash

 

Pumping my fist in the night

Because of you

… Smith

 

 

Advertisements

One thought on “Smith

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s