Shit: A Poem

If you ain’t about shit,

then you ain’t shit.

I’m done; no time for bullshit.

It’s time to be grown.

You can be about your own shit,

or someone else’s shit.

But if you’re on some other shit,

it’s time for me to go.

At last, I see what’s wrong with shit.

I hadn’t noticed this shit:

People not maintaining their shit,

their dwellings in disrepair.

I’ll tell you all about my shit,

’cause I’m about a lot of shit.

But I am done with bullshit,

and all you can do is stare.

Watch me rise higher than any shit

you’ve seen before; my shit

will have you saying, “Shit,

man, I need more!”

But I’m a selfish bitch; you’re shit

cause you ain’t about your shit.

I’ve seen the way you live: bullshit

owns you from your core.

Irresponsible like some child’s shit,

you play with nothing but shit.

You talk to spread some bullshit

and never wash your clothes.

I tell you now, I’m done with that shit.

Grown-ass people recognize shit,

but you’re so damn stuck in bullshit,

you can’t see past your nose.