When I Am In Da Club

With every grimace of pain
And reddening of skin, as blood.
Flows in to localised areas of
My arms and my chest and my legs.
I hold in my head, a dream of days
When I will decend from the ceiling
Into your line of vision
Like a pseudo 50 Cent
And though I know what you will see.
I wonder what you will look like
And indeed under what circumstances
Such a situation could come to be.