It’s Nina again…

Pen game; ascend /Saturated, infatuated wit hymns

I do rhymes like crimes locked up n back at it again

N again…

Poetic Trojan horse enter minds like brain surgery man

My own self, my worst enemy trying to murder me: dead

Put n pieces back together in form / trying to weather the storm

I get better but get wetter / cause this rains an infinite pour

Yeah I’m sensitive, sure. / Sent to this world

Till I leave trying to represent a sentiment of the “good”.

 

Nina