Proverbs 17:17 – Day 49, Never Give Up On Your Dreamz

“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity…” Proverbs 17:17

I guess I didn’t have any in the first place.
After all of my transgressions,
I’ve transitioned into a life of loneliness now that I’ve healed my past aggression.
And,
I’m glad I’m alone and peaceful,
Instead of sharing my new found energy with those so deceitful.
I would hate myself further if I shared my times with anyone who forms a promise,
Just to break it the same way my heart’s been demolished…

But,
The one question I ask myself is,
Would I even want one in this day and age?
With era hooked on blue light,
What else will be shone upon the darkness in my soul,
Besides sorrow when consoled for my pain?
All I’ve been reminded of,
Is how I’m not worth anybody’s two-cents no matter if I’ve chosen to change!
What a dirty game…

The time I’ve spent making my beloved joyful,
Left me broke in ways I never thought would.
From a heart ripped into pieces,
To too many blunts combusting my hopes of achieving,
Any kind of happiness I found in a loose-leaf and,
Tubes of ink scarring a page,
Ending up on pounds of skin out of grievance.
For no good reason…

Scarring created an image I was too fond of seeing.
Yet,
I fell in love with what was in front of my eyes.
What other choice did I,
A nomad without a terminus in sight,
Have as I was persecuted for the beast I became by living such a disdainful life,
God did not approve of?
Suicide could’ve been committed long ago,
But,
I wasn’t made into a quitter regardless of what would unfold.
After all I’m a spitter!
I’d rather leave obstacles spat on by what I would flow,
Out of a mouth I use to smash every rock thrown toward my feet…

Easy it hasn’t been,
I must admit.
With toes bruised by every pebble endured,
My walk towards bliss is,
Challenging to say the least.
My ankles ache,
But,
My faith in what’s greater than myself carries me,
Out of muddy waters.
Shielding me from becoming fodder,
For snakes and piranhas,
I no longer fish for in a cesspool of troupers who were caught up,
By a string of lies in regard to themselves…

“Better than Him!”
They thought when looking at my failures.
But,
Funny enough I’ve gained a relationship stronger than blood they’d savor,
From each bleeding cut sewn shut by my savior.
Jesus!
Even if no one believes it,
While I stomp on each demon with a pen on page,
Surfing through a wave of ink I thirst for more than,
Friends who were always fake in the first place…