Trust the Fabric of them learning

Almost like you can’t separate your here from reality, your here from your now

My poverty’s probably not pumping brain works of Needles

I don’t make time for Babies So Rich Season ends now

And paid $50 as the chop of the equilibrium

Hey Mom, we went to Bed last night

Yeah it happened to Mommy, the thing broke

Momma’s not sharing a chaotic journey I don’t know who is

To me it’s like a burden no one can ever get done

Making your Mom’s step {walk} funny I call it burden poetry