3
Street art bleeding off the brick,
Fluorescent light and a heavy click.
A solid gold crown on a concrete throne,
Built for the bold, the loud, the alone.
No soft lines, no quiet gear,
Just iron, chrome, and a beautiful fear.
We hit the switches, we scrape the ground,
Leaving our mark on an ongoing town.
Three wheels locked, tilted high,
A permanent middle finger...
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Hey everyone!

It’s been almost two years since I last dropped by, but just like old times, I really needed to come back to the very first forum that welcomed my writing and where you all gave me such an amazing reception.

I’ve been saving up some ink and gathering ideas, so I’m coming back with plenty of material. What can you expect from me...
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