Does it rain when I cry?

Or when the fog came, was it not plain to descry?

So does the hail represent my pain from the sky?

I see men die; imploding from inside

We frozen like winter

Deep to our center

Descenter; hot!

In the oven remember

Like a chicken pot pie

Why is it the last place to thaw from heat vibes?

The higher pole

Get raw

Peep rhyme

Reap game but you still wondered why

I seen a sown, grown seed of a caterpillar testafly

I test a lie

A compound, composed; 50/50 of truth

The dark half, disguised

Vexing, effective it rose, to eclipse the skies

But we swore it whole

Hold your nose and heave

Bullshit tearing up your eyes?

Open your mind and breathe

Represent my tribe

Rather my frequency

Travel minds, frequently

Unravel synchronicities like twine

Man’s words become chalk lines to infinite design

Religious verses and verbs…

More like ripe vines lined with Public Defenders

Mine are professionals, therefore I call them proverbs

Let us enter, this one session

Question: do I come from that dogon star?

Three Kings; the Magi point the way from afar

Inner GPS locks on like On Star

So does it really rain when I cry?

Wind chimes harmonize as I sigh