I’ll take a serving of the medicine that you deliver
from the corner of your intrusive and entitled little mouth.
I will swallow with a spoonful of sugar in the raw
just to see what you’re about.
I’ll feel it sink and let it brew so I can send it back to you
as I piss it right into your mouth.
How does it taste?
How does it feel?
Is it everything that’s real?
Do you still like to give it out?
If I had another dollar for every dosage of your doubt
would you make me rich and pour it out?
You keep on getting what you give-
I wonder; do you feel the dryness of your drought?
You can have a piece of truth and you can live a taste of life
when you learn to let it out-
’cause that’s what I’m about.
And if you do it with good manners;
no agenda with your planners-
then your seed might come to sprout
and you won’t even have to shout.