I came with a pen, you came with a sword,
You came with a shield, I came with a word,
I was just a wind, you made me a storm,
I had no shape and you gave me form,
With bullets, you kept firing at me,
With ink and paper, my thoughts became real
You showed me that the skin was truly made to feel,
But whenever I reach out, you become as sleek as an eel.

With every page I stained with ink,
You told me it wasn't good, and my confidence began to shrink,
You riddled me with holes with your mouth-gun
But I still managed to smile like I was having fun,
With lines of rhymes or rather rhythm,
You still hated it, yeah you spitted alot, more like baptism
Like John the Baptist you immersed me in doubt
I try to be a legend like Goulder but you made me look like small stout.
✍️❤️

© Isaac Jimoh Samuel & Alagbe Pelumi