pure imagination....

welcome to a place
of... pure imagination...
kids holding hands and skipping like lil ol buddies
playing tag and...

ugh.

mushiness kills me. no this aint a emo poem but a poem with happiness and love..
yeah, backwards like al green
but al be sure
to let you all know that... poetry is happiness
for me anyway.... its like a release.
at least
to leave my heart on a piece of looseleaf or a blank white scape as black words show up.
i wanna grow up
but when i grow i wanna throw up
because usually you see the you that made a hue or clue to what you wanted to do but you should use your usable movable hands and make a stand
that's why i bring back the black fist
or it could be white but i cant keep white white.
get it?
i could never keep anything white for long, soon itll be warped and mixed and chopped and reminxed into a jinx and another spawn of astro and for ya'll that dont know
astro dont care( you don't? prove it)
ok...
so if he says that obama is closely rhyming with osama and now that the bush is gone we could see the messed up country left behind...
that we need to put in work like mexicans... save like caucasians... steal like african-americans, speed like asians, vent like haitians, do whatever illegally like puerto ricans, try to make a name for ourselves like cubans, move like native americans and make another stand
not a hand or a head move ahead and embed what you processed into this poem...

cause half of you will even remember one word out of this.
let alone recite this.



but i dont care... CHARLES HAMILTON all day....
(notice i didnt end this just yet... yeah... i an just stop right her....)