When the selfishness subsides
I am a willing man who only wish for my soul to rise
A mans man
But still I cry
Each tear for a defendants descendant of the civil rights
No cries come out just questions
Know the life lived isn't right
Wonder if they forgot what was fought so hard for
I waited a decade for my voice to become that of a renagade
A reconnaissance plan to rise up and retake mans…
brain.
The pain in our mothers eyes...
daily
as she rewatch her sons die
The mannerism is gangster
Manifestation: danger
For the daughters; which turn our future generations futile
The hardships of a partnership
With faith
I work greatly to create the mental space for his grace
He holds a vast place in my arteries
Specifically the main ventricle
I treat hymns as instrumentals
Living along the lines of to many coincidentals
Its hard to steer clear
when where I from…..
[ ]
its important to watch what creeps up in the peripherals.
I'm from an area where love is scarcely spread and the language of trust is difficult
I'm 22 statistically the (neighbor)hood should of swallowed me by now
Remembering not drinking at fountains,
where water had NO COLORED ALLOWED signs around
When violence is vibrant to the conscious it is uncommon to not yeild the pen but consequences created verbal artist
We, "writers"……...
realized ink is the most powerful instrument way before Dr. King, Malcolm or Medgar
Inadvertently, inscribing the histories
sprang mysteries of what if's
Planting,
Laying seeds in the mind
I now realize why you can only become legend after you die.
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