Spitting Poetry

I wrote this in a single draft, it just flowed from my head, to my fingers, to paper. Or, more accurately, my phone, since the poem caught me unarmed. Without pen and paper. That said, and because of the freestyle/stream of concious nature of the poem, I'm proud of this one...


I'll keep spitting poetry
 Spitting poetry because life shows no symmetry
 No balance to hold for stability
Realized I have to make my own gravity
 Been knocked down
Dragged down
 Shots kept coming even when I was on the ground
No time to make my face frown
No choice I have to get back up
I haven't lived life or given enough
 There's a catch, a snag, struggle
Being bulletproof comes with a price
Stings like hell though spared my life
That's what I take
Take, take, take
For what or who's sake?
 I don't know
 On I go
Shots fired and I take them
 No choice about it, no chance to run
Not even sure who's hand holds that gun
No matter what, I'll live
I've got a love and a life to give.
 I'm spitting poetry
Spitting poetry to make my own symmetry
My own stability
 My own gravity
Spitting poetry