As the world turns, bridges burn; there’s a collection of ashes in an urn, for a point of reflection, not return. No greener pastures, just judgements & controllers; halfway off the balcony debating on whether or not it should all be over…
I love the family. Their strength energizes, provides me with positivity I’d otherwise be blind to see. So I won’t jump or fall free; there’s more to be done still: My life, this strife – is bigger than me.
Inspired by Terence Crutcher R.I.P
This color comes with pressure:
to want it is one thing,
to emulate it is another,
to blatantly steal is a third,
to live it, may get you 6 feet under.
I don’t want to come off as confrontational, but this color is coveted.
This color comes with charisma:
it comes with a publicly perceived predisposition to crime and it comes from creating beauty out of nothing.
The unfortunate reality is that outside factors are often detractors who would rather see you dead or indebted for eternity.
Both of those outcomes spurn me internally.
We will rise up.
This color cannot be killed: I say that earnestly.
I cannot say, “F*ck love!”Aggressively or passively or something of the varying, synonym-filled variety.
I want to remove that responsibility, that burden, of being some nice guy,
but to do so would be to remove myself from existence.
Such brash action is not needed in this instance.
So instead I say, “F*ck me!”
Abstractly not literally.
I’m wishing I could revisit the younger me and warn him against thee.
We are a proud people
Years progressed from the hardest of times
History glorified, often fragmented,
celebrated, but not allocated true recognition.
Made infamous for ignorance
lacking the embodiment of a true essence
Hardships fought by ancestors
but we would rather let society sequester
Education and advancement
Too enthralled with garments and dance
instead of loving each other for intelligence,
relevant viewpoints, or political stances.
Seemingly crippled by unavoidable violence
As another teen falls your senses are blinded by sirens.
Do you hear that?
The gunshots, the poverty. Do you feel that?
Senses abused and misused as I am mortified by
the scarcity of faith and hope.
Consumed by small-mindedness…
“They either ball, rap, or move that dope.”
Only a fool would ever idolize these jesters.
I am insulted.
Loathing the eyes which portray this view:
All aforementioned specimens look just like you
The voices that dare aspire to inspire
are too faint & oft times, unheard.
Singularly focusing on the unknown is how our ambitious & lost souls roam.
Love’s touch is eternal, but the thought of slowing down = the same response in more than one tongue: No.
No because we are forever on the go…
Loving the potential thought of it all, but personal commitments force you to withdraw.
Subservient to the irony of the Drive; continually creeping or verging on the edge, hoping to exchange madness for greatness, watching minutes move the hour hand… A micro view of life’s proverbial quicksand… Hearts distraught for naught! Faded: That hue of the real you is simply going, going, gone.
Pushing away simplicity for complexity:
Away we say! Marred in self-admiration & dedication; we tell love to comeback on another day.
Shooting star in the middle night is all you are. Chasing you on an endless loop, I reach out to grasp and hold, but fail to ever connect: I cannot reach that far.
So just go.
Misquote these miscreants.
Show the facade of unjust retaliation, the constant fear for life that leads to taking lives constantly…
The news is a necessary nauseating nuisance that never ceases to show a nation in a state of confusion.
Amidst this “bureaucracy”…
Justice is just this service for sale.
Happily never after fairytales are all that prevail…
Be careful what you set into motion Tornadoes & hurricanes are uncontrollable.
You give a segment access to excess of everything so all that’s produced afterwards is waste so I advise against ingesting anything from this particular populace.
Just secure your section of success to recycle & recreate replicas of progress.