the devil is a trickster can’t find him in Twisted Sister sorry that I missed her aim to fame was through the flames eating Cheetos got your juice frozen got thoughts of the ocean sifting through the latest trends some may offend but I like to stick like glue for what’s new with you stirring the sauce Ragu still I’m on top try to bother my followers going squeeky clean cruising in my fast machine in the music scene my raps someday will be on top just like the famed Fetty Wap Scareface The Diary is dead inside of me but inspires me fulfilling my legacy boogy down to the socks just like Samantha Fox tender words as if you never heard…
How does one base their reality when thoughts are still deep inside of me we need to read between the lines settle the score by paying our fines some suckers can kiss my behind cause all they want to do is bitch & whine just like Kool and the Game I’m still dropping flames falling back on that ass no one in this life gets by on any free pass have a tendency to over react got to settle in won’t you be my friend so keep ya head up critics need to shut up I’m the bounce for the ounce with the hour of power… Suckers want to beat me why I go pee pee still got bars at 47 it’s not a one stop shopping event at your local seven eleven don’t ever toss in the towel wear your head ten feet tall cause we got a know it all for president he is the fallen resident working on that freakin wall got to get a hold of himself or put that book right back on the shelf.. surfing Twitter like a Keebler elf but he should no better cause Mr. Bones himself wore his sweater.
Mario William Vitale is a poet with over 1,000 toward his platform. Vitale was born October 23rd, 1970 in Bristol, Ct. Currently living in Wolcott, Ct where he helps as a care taker for his elderly handicapped mother Ann. Vitale is featured as a writer on Poetrysoup, Writerscafe & Allpoetry. Has a fan base on facebook with over 650 followers. He started writing poems in 1989 after the break up of his first girlfriend as a way to cope with life.
Thanksgiving never will I forget Hopping in the car for a very long ride to grandma’s house With heavy frost on the grass, glistening in the sun Singing songs and counting grain bins to pass the time Now the frost
The morning flock returning to their nest, Piercing the yellow shine in the high sky, Mighty mountains and silent trees stood witness, To the painting drawn by the scorching sun, The sweet rhythm of waves and the coldness of The
How tall and stout were those who wore big armors? I wondered at a museum of heroic ancestors. In self hypnotism I look through future. find machines are giants, people- pygmies, products outnumber their creators, most inhabitants follow train of