What Does He Wanna Be?

He doesn't like how it is,

Coming out with words; football, like Le Tiss but without the fizz,

Just need the music; to try and show he can be the biz.

 

Sitting here knowing how the words should go,

But without background music; no one else will know,

Yet he'll just carry on; until he blows,

Calling time; it's time for us to go.

 

People seeing it as a poem,

It isn't; but he can't seem to show them,

Keep on rhyming; til he gets to blow them,

One day; he will get to show them.

 

Or maybe it's just a strange mystery,

Maybe it's just a different kind of poetry,

Just blowing it all out; wanting to be,

In his head; the only one mother loving G.

 

You tell him,

What's he trying to be,

Rap wannabe,

Or simple different kind of poetry?