Month: April 2022

I’m a writer

It’s who I am
It’s who I can be

Writing can take me places without even moving a muscle
I can share my story, other’s, or even someone’s who doesn’t exist
I can release my passion
My joy
My sorrow
My love
My doubt

I can go here to express myself
My story, that others can’t see
It’s my hiding place
My secret notebook

I am a writer, who can never stop

I live in a world that has negatively changed me.
Where I’m never sure if I’ll persist through it all.

I live in a world that can devastate me.
In this big world that makes me feel small.

I live in a world that petrifies me.
With people who always want to brawl.

I live in a world that cannot compromise.
For life and humanity above all.

I live in a world that dehumanizes me.
And thousands of others too.

I live in a world that feels like It’s ending.
Where some feel like it would be better if through.

But I live in a world that is constantly changing.
Those changes for better or worse.

But I live in a world that is rearranging.
Its principles shifting constantly and always changing the verse.

I was the last one.
While they had fun, I was at home.
I was the last one.
When they looked through the screen, all they saw as me.
I was the last one.
They asked why, they asked if I was shy.
I was the last one.
I wanted to go but my parents said no.
I was the last one.
The time had come for me to have fun.
I was no longer the last one.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go but I decided I shouldn’t say no.
I was no longer the last one.
I did not have to smile all the time or miss the fun.
I was no longer the last one.

What do you do,
When you encounter nature?

Do you admire it,
Respect it,
Stop to appreciate its wild beauty?

Do you at least leave it in peace,
Step around it,
Instead of trampling it,
That dainty flower in a world of gray?

Or do you cage it,
Trap it,
Confine it to walls, floors, roofs?

Do you snip the vines,
Chop the trees,
Use innocent nature for your own comfort,
Though it did no such thing to you?

Could you?

First off, I miss them times where I wasn’t limited to sunshine.
I sit in a cell reminiscing on dark times.
But every night I still pray for better times.
Because I still have the hope in the heart that everything is going to be fine.
Yea, I’ve done been locked up a long time.
But I’m finally to the point where there is more behind me than in front of me.
So now I just hope to get out and be what I want to be.

The Black people have been through so much.
We don’t even give ourselves enough recognition for what we’ve accomplished.
A lot of people hate what we have done;
They are astonished if we African Americans come together and fight,
Not with violence, but with our minds that are bright.
We are judged by the color of our skin and talked down on
As if our kind is a sin.
We have so many people who fight for our kind
But we don’t have all the outlets to speak our mind.
We want change,
But we are threatened by some white people to stay in our lanes
We try to love the world and be ourselves
But we are played out like records and put on the shelves.
If we want this to change
We must start now and not let the other kind put us down
Must be in charge for us Black people
Justice for us color people.

A rumble in the distance,
People running home.
People in a resistance,
To stop today’s storm.

Boom! Crack! Smack!
Thunder roars.
People rush for shelter in a zillion stores.
The yelps of stranded people in the freezing rain.

Farmers cry as their grain,
Soaked in the rain,
Shrivels to bits,
And falls into grit.

Stuck in stores,
Thinking of sunny shores,
Looking through doors,
At the freezing rain.

The world goes dark,
While trees settle in their bark,
People cry,
People snooze.

Stuck in rain,
Such a pain,
To stay inside,
Only to play games.

Only to play video games,
To learn about Colonial Dames,
To stay cooped,
With nothing to do.

Sitting bored,
On a board,
In a store,
On the floor.

Waiting to see clear skies,
Sitting at home,
So bored,
What a torture.

He wasn’t organized, said the clothes on the floor joined by school papers scattered on the ground.
He was a teenage boy, said the charger cords.
He likes video games, said the pile of cases in the corner.
He loves music, said the broken CD player tucked carefully under the bed.

I’m alone
No one around
Sad and alone
Not making a sound

I’m alone
No one can be heard
Not even thinking
I can’t say a word

I’m alone
Not single living being
I’m not happy
No one’s listening

I’m alone
No one to talk to
So bored
Wish I could undo

Colors, colors, colors
Oh there is no other
thing that makes me say oh brother!
Red, orange, yellow
it’s so mellow
so I just say hello
Rainbows and well everything,
Houses, maps, cars, even me.
Colors in all
it’s like ball
that fills you up with happiness.