An ode to my other brother

I envy your style but it's not my style
Your words like butter on warm toast
Or is it jam

The pictures you paint with your tongue
Clearly you've dotted your "t"'s and crossed your "p"'s
Did you get a new brush?

Whatever you do seems to work in tune
The musical note you leave behind lingers
That rhythm kills me every time

I wouldn't change my style of swords
Your cut is razor sharp in a few slashes
I use a axe straight and true
That's all I do

But I still wouldn't change my style if you paid me to

by Jbones
posted on 07/11/2012

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