On his madness.
'Two As' and seven Bs'?,
'This is poor!', prologued he.
Darting eyes met his, in contort apprehension.
My heart fled,took refuge beneath the Olumos',
leaving my brain to take over the mess
I was sound struck,silent noise deafened my
thoughts as my brain PAUSED..
'PLAY!',he said, his voice wrappingly flew, visiting
his brain box to stab me with words, he
stammered, 'your pl...ay is too much!
My heart returned, sourced the rivulet from my
human lake and taking solitude in my stomach..it
beat to dad's tune,taping "the worms" to warful
dance..
As my old man's tone increased, from soprano he
did the bass..how he played carelessly.
'I see!',he stood, his paunch nodded in mocking
agreement as if to say'what a foolish boy'.
The result sheet fell,took a brisk air tossing to
avoid being torn.
'This result is poor!, boy', came the starting point.
I have seen that look once, inquired my eyes.
Tired of using bass,he unleashed the key point in
an instance. "OPERATION
MADNESS"
"our husband has gone mad", again came the
thought,education was too much!
I'm sorry dad, I.......I never finished those words
before lightning struck on my face,
my lucky tooth shifted, irked my inspiration as I
protested but the protest was late as the thunder
roared,
'are you mad?
Dirty transparent teardrops eschewed from my
lids,kissed my lips and took my chin.
Seems 'twas going to be a "Thunderstorm"afterall,
because neighbours were now flocking in
confused noise in front of our door,
"forecasting the weather.
'Do I pay your fees for such results! ehn?
Lightning struck again, followed by the thunder
tears pelted down my eyes,soaked the satin rug
and flowed to flooded streams.
We toured the house in foreign noise,
on the settee,
on the bed in my room
under the table beneath we rolled,in emphatic
stress,
dad caesurically mad.
My heart bled, fortified my hatred for the darling
miss,
did she sing my ode
'your parents will be so proud of you, what an
excellent result'
My grin shun,outdid the sparkling glee on the
Milky ways.
Darling muse I thought as I rapped in tuneless
shrieks on the Orthopaedic bed.
Dad in chains at the psyches,
mum got him his favorite book
"On his madness"
'twas then the true theory of constance dawned
on me
'The thunder and lightning aren't everyday but the
sky is up there everyday.
And the sky is my ceiling.

classics aspirants drop ur numbers ere let's
rappur well on watsap.

hmmn. jes observing

oga fembleez. e be like say you b omnipresent for every social network.. oga na u o.. ja mi si na!

na me open am. lol

open by both

hello!am new here.