MIZZ B.A.T     

                                                     POEM :THESE HANDS

In these times of youthful struggle, cries and sometimes laughter drooling from unwanted hustling,
 caused BY fear, Of lurking hands that sometimes lead me astray,
For they are unable to engage me in those wanted things,material things, 
Falling from filthy skies drawn on canvases of greed and lack of self!
The world that consumes most of the youth and worried adults in sadness
of many saddened lives, grown, then crushed into plastic bags 
of fake packed worthless shit
of false hope, because those hands are worthless of self 
and pity and yet WE in this life aspire to be them?

These hands however grow, and stretch into fields of honest wealth
maybe not from the fore front, back or side proportional to your vision
however from my glance, that only YOU get cause of your neglect
you see what is not offered to you except a proportion of me
YOU SEE
This that I have should NOT be the determining factor of a definite conclusion
for from my feet
 above, below and around 
the conclusion of me is still yet to be seen

For these hands haven't even begun to lay platforms of me
For anything that will grow from these hands will be concrete
These hands are here for definition and not sublimity
These hands will be the driving force of ME! 


Your Truly
Mizz B.A.T