Conceited

All hail the New World where Order is set by the same color of the earth you walk on so we must be grounded. From her we sprouted, bright as the Son with inevitable quickness and a sharp steeled tongue with political slickness, which pushes through doubt and stabs through fear. What say you, be we peasants or be we royalty? Rhetorical, your eyes should hurt at the brightness of your reflection. Who say I'm not as tall as a red wood, easy going like a stream and deep as an ocean? Who say I'm not fly enough to dance on Venus, use the stars as my necklace and swim through milky ways. Who say you not? Who say you not Queen like We or King like He. Your eyes should hurt from the brightness.

I claim this

That's why I

spit hot fire like a volcanic eruption

my truth so profound

it takes no assumptions

I am where the world is

my womb is what birth it

so that gives me

power to burn it

power to change it

rearrange status quo

put Caucasians in cages

revolution is mine

I put my name on that blacklist

I'll change the whole world

with a flick of my pen

and I dare 'em to stop it!