“Bottom sixes and chains, and some bracelets and rings
All of the little accents that make me a king”
-Drake
The golden microphone glowed.
Like the diamonds in his watch.
His verbal technique he showed.
He took his skills up a notch.
Cups of tea soothed his throat.
Champagne tickled.
Extra honey got his vote.
The thoughts soon trickled.
He appreciated the tiny crew.
What some would call a gang
It was something that he knew
When he sang.
Their actions though small
Exponentially emboldened him.
Just a text or a call
Caused him to value them.
His wife, her face looked smart.
He knew that it was his head
Not his heart
That made him tread.
The diamonds and platinum glittered.
Not materialism but thought
Allowed the jewels to be littered
On rings that the jeweler had wrought.
He found his earned crown
By being the best lyricist among many.
In history he would go down,
His competition wouldn’t be any.
About the Creator
Skyler Saunders
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