Am I angry?
Does it seem that I am, through the poetry I express?
Let me digress, you see to me it seems,
I slice with a sword of truth,
how I percieve,
Now correct me if I’m wrong, do the actions speak louder than any other?
Or do the words appear first to get the actions going, and then its in motion?
Or is it the thoughts, then the words, then the actions?
Or do words even match the action?
And if words don’t match, then its the actions, that are true?
So you see
If I seem angry, I’m not,
I’m just not hooked, on this book, of the make believe of this dream.
I’m not the echo, or the one in the stream reflecting on all I’ve been, falling in love with this ghost of this body of the host.
I’m not copying anyone, I have to be real in this here beam.

So now I’m yelling at the stream, about the story of the real.
I now make to co – create, 
Now I know, I’m not  late,  because I didn’t take the bait,
I’m not Fake  Xxx