Real Eyes

By Cody Smith

 

 

The stares, glares & not fairs, that one goes through, the no they will not share with you, give a shit or a fuck, have a care or a clue, about the things that you say, because the one thing is true, that nothing will stick, even with the super'ist of glue, that it's tough to brake stereo-type when you wear this tattoo.

 

 

Because of their judge-ment, about my time spent, as I circumvent, release frustration, vent, y'all can get bent, up over misconstrued state-ments, so much that it's tough, when bent over backwards is not even enough, it simply will not do, you're only sick? we need the flu, it's gotta be an innovative, unheard of, brand spanking new view, on everything, both in ring and out, leaving no doubt, as you let them know who you are and what you're about.

 

 

But back to the real eyes, as I realize, it's the real vibes, that are felt, in the heart, make it melt, it's an art, sustained disbelief- like a 20 second fart, not heard all the time, but impressive none the less, back to my tattoos the one that I have on my chest, arms & legs crossed, sitting in meditation, be your own boss, feeling every sensation, being part of the now, negative thoughts you won't allow, to penetrate your brain, lessons taught from the Tao.

 

 

Like the yin & the yang, for the songs that you've sang, for the fucks that you give, when you're doing your thang. Cause this life, we have one, be miserable, or have fun, its a choices that we make, until the day that we're done. - so either walk or run, but continue to move, the only thing you can do, is try & improve, on who you were yesterday, keep it together don't fray, and back up with action, the words that you say.