I can't stand people who can't come up with their own shit and take the credit for yours...

biters.

"ella, you MUST be practical"

But tell me this... since when was dreaming just practical?

Waterfall.

My words flow,

like a waterfall

out of my mind's walls

and lash through my soul.

My words flow,

like a waterfall

to the point where I can recall

every single line, word and share it with y'all.

My words grew with me,

from when I crawled, when I was small... and well, still small.

My words shared love, hate, and everything in between,

I try to keep my words clean,

& like jack's bean,

I plant my words,

and keen, hope for

something magical,

like a waterfall

all-natural

from heaven's mall,

a God-given

gift

and I thank him

for keeping me adrift

in a world where

money is of quintessence

and heart is never the essence.

What do you do with a gift that's useless?

One that'll never get acceptance

One of love, hope, and dreams.

What do you do when you're a waterfall... and they want you to be a stream?

People who have heard about my ugly morning today know what I'm talking about.