Some mornings don’t call for you to sit and conjure rhymes, Coming from the darkest corners of my mind. But, It’s a rhythm insisted upon me to rekindle a vision I lost deep inside of an Abyss, I was formerly accustomed to…
It’s a curse that I’m happy to be gifted. Writing a line, Lining my intentions! With what I’m supposed to Be… A poet reaching higher states of mind than ever before, Flowing freely…
But, Not everyone will see the same Light you see. Some people see the Sun surrounded by a luminous sky! Others close their eyes and see Light made brighter by the Darkness that once sucked their life away, As I contain mine in my loose-leaves…
Just not the same as anybody else and I’m proud of that shit. You either love me or hate me now that I’ve climbed out of that Abyss. You tend not care about the opinion of another when you have a family who believes your voice should be soundproofed inside of a ditch. But, That’s a story for another day! While I prove everybody wrong with a smile I’ve neglected anytime I’ve listened to that lie…
Leave a Reply