Poem: Bard to the Bone

Spitting bars in his mama’s womb
A bonafide wordsmith, profusely sweating rhymes
“What are you? Make up your mind” olde fart English-Lit teacher asked, for his crimes
Can’t fit this brother into a tomb.

Some sit in a lecture hall poncing over Proust
While Ed’s ticked off TikTok with his YouTube comedy shorts
Some laugh, some cry, some get on the phone to resolve their differences, others check into resorts
The power of the Bard – touch lives, heal hearts, etcetera – and so what have you deduced?

No “formal” degree, self-taught higher education from the likes of Q-Tip, KRS-One and Guru from Gang Starr
Bards before him, leaving a legacy for the next gen sisters and brothers picking up the baton
It’s not about the wonga, gold teeth and bad boy jewels from London’s Garden of Hatton
The likes of Ed and his counterparts, one-stop edutainers that reveal the truth of phonies as hamster.

To edutain, deeply embedded in Ed’s DNA
Sorry, can’t pull it apart, can’t alter it, can’t separate it, it’s all or nothing guv’
Acting, singing, writing haunting songs to moving melodies to serve your greater good, it’s all about the love
He’ll beat the “darlings” at Scrabble, stitch-up the negativity pouring off the haters – his talents, they sure are an array.

Thespian, writer, poet, producer, musician – yeah, he’s all o’ that and none o’ that
Just take him for what he is – Bard to the Bone or Bad to the Bard, he chooses
His words carry the weight of worlds’n’wisdom, he is his own muses
Sharing life lessons with you, a problem shared a problem halved, the rest up to you to combat.

Image Credit: Dumbshirts

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