The World and Its Wonders

The world is like the shell of a pearl, or the well of a girl

Whose soul is too deep in the past and her fate took a spin in a curl

Never to be straight again, because the fate of men

is designed for not even the most complex minds to comprehend

So when I am told the creation of life is nothing more than a

scientific blunder

I start to laugh, cause every question answered first started with wonder

Maybe diseases were all mistakes too, why did my cousin get cancer?

But we all get lost in the same question, that we will truly never get answered

What is God? Where did existence truly start?

And why do some men think with their minds, while others go with their heart?

There has to be a bigger purpose because with all the conspiracies and lies

There has to be an ultimate truth beyond the limits of the endless skies

Through the changes life brings, I’m consistent in my need to be consistent

I’m provincial on the topic of ideology but when I pray my mind travels distant

I ask the Lord for wisdom on all days, no matter cloudy, rainy, or sunny

And pray for him to take my soul If ever I become bitter by the love of money

Will I live to see a day more peaceful than my fellow mankind’s history?

Religious warfare, the line between right and wrong will forever remain a mystery

Some men never distinguish the evils in their own temperament and morality

Some men even bring harm to others, just in the name of an increased secure salary

Even though there is so much all around me, I love the ease of living day by day

The past is triumph; the present is a gift, so I know my purpose has not gone astray

Could I be inspiration to help crying souls to endure the pain of the strife in life

Could I be the voice of the young that cuts deceit and destruction like a knife

And I could do all this if you take in my love for stanzas and lines

The world sometimes seems pointless, but my purpose; I found mine.

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I haven’t had time to reflect lately or properly for that matter on the things/situations in my life. I reached back out because I am a masochist, clearly. It hurts so much to talk but damn are my words beautiful when I’m in pain. People say they feel my words better that way. I guess that’s why I stopped listening to Mary J. And Keyshia Cole. Ain’t no hurt to relate to and lately I feel that’s all my life is becoming, major heartache. We all have a muse. Mine has seem to come in the form of broken men and distorted perceptions of women. I look at pictures of your face and I see everything that could never be. But it fuels my fire and for some reason when I am done writing I find myself further and further away from you. Clearly this makes no sense to you because I mean, you’re but a man and I am a complicated woman. My prayers consist more gratitude than of questions. I’m learning that sometimes people need to be let go and although it’s becoming easier for me to do such it still leaves my heart cold. Conversations are not supposed to hurt so I keep it light and discuss Beyonce’s new album and send funny pictures. I slip every now and then and my heart escapes my permission to speak and I tell you how much I miss you but you chose to ignore. I can’t decide what hurts more the rejection or acknowledging the fact you no longer feel the same. My heart doesn’t break lucky for me. No instead it just feels weightless and lifeless, exactly how I felt last night when I decided to relax in a bubble bath while drinking countless glasses of pink moscato. I haven’t reflected lately or properly because to reflect is to think and to think is to realize and to realize means sooner or later I’m gonna have to accept. I’ve never been too good with changes…

Let’s Take A Moment…

Appreciation in the most sincere form is beautiful.
Too much trust I put in people.
Because I believe in people.
The good in people radiate, have you ever noticed?
In a world full of cruelty and sadness, have you ever noticed the ability that some people possess to still be able to smile and bring joy to others?
We can’t always focus on the negativity in the world.
This world was never ours to begin with.
The closer I get to reconnecting with my faith, the happier I’m becoming.
It’s the most fulfilling feeling I have ever experienced.
I radiate and my spirit can be felt.
I can’t and will not apologize for believing in people the way I do.
I remember praying and asking the most high to allow me to see the good in people.
I remember praying for a change in my spirit.
And soon as I opened my heart and my mind, this world, this life became clearer to me.
It’s hard to get here, I understand, but I pray one day that you’ll too get to experience this unconditional love I have.
This compassion.
This appreciation for those who still manage to keep smiles on others faces a midst the world’s tragedies.
I still believe in people.

Wholeheartedly.

Daddy, No!

 

Daddy’s home again.

Mommy looks so scared.

I can see it in her eyes,

The fear that’s in her stare.

 

Daddy starts to yell

And mommy walks away.

It’s hard to ignore the smell

That invades our troubled way.

 

“Go upstairs!” mommy yells.

“It’s going to be just fine.”

But I do not believe her,

Because it happens every time.

 

As a worried little girl,

I begin to scream.

“Daddy, please leave mom alone.

Daddy, don’t be mean.”

 

My cries won’t find its way,

To daddy’s sober heart.

So I stand there and I watch,

As daddy tears my mom apart.

 

A blow to mommy’s face.

A grip of mommy’s soul.

The wrath of my father,

When the liquor’s in control.

 

A child’s innocence plagued,

By her daddy’s drunken choices.

Nightmares in my sleep

Of my Daddy’s angry voices.

 

Strength is my mother,

For all that she endured.

No matter what pain daddy caused,

Her love was there to  cure.

The Real American Dream

Life isn’t as good as it seems

Shattered dreams

Projects consumed by fiends

Women turn to premature prostitution at thirteen

Young men roam the city streets with guns in possession

Robberies is the main cause from effect of recession

Magnums in reach, both metal and rubber for protection

Diseases overcome our streets mainly from our sexual obsession

Shattered hearts from so-called love connections

Minds corrupted, there’s no true cure for our depressions

Except… drugs birthed from our very own government

Formed in varies varieties

Used to dumb down society

Sitting front row watching our population slowly fade

Man will destroy any form in which is man-made

Using knives, guns, any weapon from missiles to hand grenades

Violence in which many condone

From the streets to the presence of our very own home’s

Money, the root of all evil

Paper disguised, just another form of the needle

Just another excuse to kill

Blood spills over just. one. bill.

…And cheap thrills

Millions walking with their eyes closed

Rather be blinded by harsh reality than exposed

I suppose…

Progress

Sometimes we live our lives in a retrospective way. Allowing the past to hold more than the future. Minimizing opportunities for self growth all the while destroying any space available for optimism.
Destructive in every sense. The past is to learn from not hinder thyself or ridicule anyone.
Grow.
Make the conscious decision to take another persons’ feelings into consideration.
Take a moment for yourself to reflect and understand some things are beyond your comprehension but momentary setbacks are just that, setbacks.
Breathe.
Waiting to exhale wasn’t just about a bunch of women and their men problems. Waiting to exhale is finally finding the strength to breathe again. Through the coldest winters and into the hottest summers, honey you are a woman.
Embrace it.
Don’t forget your power.
Know when to walk away and when to stay.
The past won’t haunt you if you don’t allow it to.

You’re coming into your own.
Become the woman you are set out to be.
Roads get rough, I understand. But you can’t find your way through life if you keep looking back.