The Man That Lacks To Man Poem by Ifeoluwa Philips

Holy shit!
How can I pen this on my sheet
Of a man who lacks to man
Man his own very mind man
Feeding his soul-meat with pain
What art thou have to gain
Though whip of hope you've lost long ago
And against your shadow you build up ego
Your hands clap on your soul-meat cheeks
Matching her flesh like a dead chicks
Feather of of fatherism fell off you
Meanwhile the bloody smile of your heart can't have you
Isn't insanity dines in mind
All what did wrong and right wines in mind
Stop, take your mind in control
Your high hat heart bring it low
Patch up your wounded heart
With nothing but your soul-meat smiling heart
When yoh raise your hands
Let it be of cares soothing to fix her hands
When you raise your voice
Let it be filled with a love songs soothing her voice
She is your rib-bone
Can you be perfect when you have it broken your side bone?
She wasn't wrong fell in love with you
Bless the heart that really wants to be with you
Its of pain to see her tears
Why should you smile and let her in tears
Melody is song of love
When you refund her with love
i hope the pen bleeds aright
Listen and treat her aright.