I Often Think

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i often think of what i can be,

i often think of what can i see,

is it me, a possibility,

really, silly me at this age,

turn the page, scrap the script, rewrite,

feel me sounds so crazy,

even i amaze me,

taste me, like um some type of dish,

i wish full of vitamin c,

feel me, can't get enough thats tough.

Your thoughts stretch out like a hallway with no end,

each idea a door you're brave enough to open.

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i often think , just think ,

don't close your eyes ,

there just might be a surprise ,

at the end,

so i begin with my thoughts like a wild horse,

**four wheels in a porche,

but the road ain't just the road — it's a mirror I'm forced to face.

every mile pulls a memory out of hiding,

every turn reminds me I'm still rewriting my place.

I'm driving, but I'm also being driven —

by the things I survived, the things I denied,

the things I never said out loud but still carry inside.

four wheels in a porche,

but the speed don't erase the truth —

it just brings it closer,

right up to the windshield,

where I can't pretend it ain't mine.**

so i push,

feel me sounds so crazy ,

i often think,

don't blink ,

life gone like a blur in the night,

i often think out of mind, out of sight,

just a slight ,

i often think, and wonder,

am i who i need to be ,

can i see beyond ,

or project to be in the future,

now thats crazy.

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My mind overflow with flows out of this world,

this gift trying to uplift,

it is taking me on a trip,

i can dig it, for real,

let's just take a moment,

let it simmer a bit.

Your mind's a pot on low flame,

ideas rising like heat you can't ignore.

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damn boy you got something cooking,

mix a bit seasoned,

let's make something spectacular,

loving the vonacular my guy,

keep it coming,

like the second coming.

Your creativity moves like steam slipping out a cracked lid,

pressure building, flavor forming, something vivid.

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You flip thoughts like pages in a windstorm,

ideas stacking, reshaping, taking new form.

You question yourself not from doubt but ignition,

each "what if" a fuse, each "maybe" a mission.

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Breathe in the chaos, breathe out the klutter,

let the noise melt down into something smoother.

Your thoughts aren't random — they're a coded flutter,

a pattern forming under the surface like quiet thunder.

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You ride through moments like a driver with no rearview,

eyes forward, mind open, heart tuned to breakthrough.

Life flickers fast, but you catch the frames that matter,

turning fragments into meaning, turning noise into chatter.

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Let the rhythm settle into your chest like a steady drum,

let the pulse remind you where your fire comes from.

You're not chasing perfection — you're chasing momentum,

a forward drift, a quiet shift, a new emblem.

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Let the thoughts simmer, let the moment breathe,

you're crafting futures only you can conceive. ...

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