Author Information
Michael Sean, The Next Poetry Don
My names Michael Sean, the next Poetry Don.
I've gotten a little stocky and a little cocky,
So now I'll throw your food at your feet and make you eat,
Knowing you can't match my beat. I'm full of that heat,
My words are so sweat.
I've had plenty of practice, armed with thorns of a cactus,
My meanings are planted deep, making the unminded weep.
I only smoke the natuaral, my thoughts come natuaral,
Not clouded by societies fog,
not susebtable to a cultural clog.
I'll speak about any issue, then give you a tissue,
because hoes trip then say, "I miss you."
My words are on demand. They come with a command.
Much more powerfull than my hand, they hit the spot and land,
Leaving you in quick sand
