Rebellion
By Dillon Collins
As you read what I write, you hear what I speak.
The more that you read, the more you think, freak!
I hold a revolution in the palm of my hand.
Oh wait, the moment's passed, now it's something less grand.
The mind of a lunatic churned out in batches,
He thinks epic tales but his pen gets bits and snatches.
Forgive him dear world, though you don't understand.
His kind has always been under a brand.
Burnt in their flesh like a sword or a thorn,
because they've been writing since the day they were born.
Think what you will but us heretics stand.
We hold a rebellion in the palm of our hand.
