You are a physical beast,
unleash your inner feast,
you can walk around,
keep your ear to the ground,
but never stop till you cease.
Your just a mental crease,
bent on entertaining sleeve,
you can think abound,
or think almost round,
until those meeces leave your crown.
Your just a bundle of nerves,
have or have not’s the curse,
until you see,
the value in tea,
you mouth wont make a purse.
This is why we rhyme in time,
gathering logic in mine,
the words not heard,
you’ll read and curb,
working out deep in the burbs.