Off the rip I’mma address this injustice
It won’t let me rest and I’m getting rambunctious
So while I still function I’m after your neck
I ain’t holding back punches
I call this poetical justice
You’re in bed with all the corruption
The thread that’s keeping all dysfunction in function
A threat in the comfort of having the privilege
To chop and eject a person that’s nothing but honest
And no, I’m not talking politics for your info but hold
Here’s a snippet for that topic in bold
“I know that government still serves its purpose and it plays a continuous role
But it won’t take my life
In other words it…
I think you have thunderstorms in your mind.
You’re afraid of sharing a home and your insides.
There are moments you feel too close,
and you don’t know if it’s right.
I wonder when this torment was born;
when it started taking over your life.
I’m afraid you’ll only get worse as we get older, night after night.
We’re not getting any younger;
we’re no longer on the side of the light.
We can’t even have a conversation;
you snap at my sight.
What if it’s hate that’s forming in the back of your eyes?
How far will you go during a bitter…
It’s your consistency.
You know what it does to a man to see your persistence?
You’re the addiction that leads me to dream and believe.
Therefore, I insist on walking down the streets you breathe.
From downtown to Coney Island,
remember that day at the park? The Prospect?
That day I caught your lovely sight, man!
With my tape deck walking with the only smile then,
bouncing with every step while admiring.
Baby, I’m in awe.
People come and go,
but you are who you are.
You’re New York City’s shining star. …
The coming and going of calendars helps you see what’s truly valuable in life and makes forgiving easier.
If only you could picture yourself ten years from now and see that today’s pain will not last but change,
and that life will bring challengers and challenges, believe me,
you’d miss the current calendar you’re facing today.
Again, it would be easier.
Unfortunately, there will always be a pain,
and I know it hurts right now because it’s coming from me.
But I’m just a mediocre writer, who’s been lost in this world trying to deaden my reactions to pain.
Nostalgia will call ya.
An old home that once loved ya
coming up to offer
a feeling of gratitude in the present,
wrapped inside your memory coffer.
Or a sentiment of sadness
for a home that you lost
that is maybe only on pause
or gone in a lost cause.
Nostalgia will call ya
to remind you what you are
cause what you were has taught ya
to appreciate today with all of your heart
for you're alive and breathing,
and you still share a part
of life with the rest of the living.
now you're more…
Some tend to feel superior to others.
Maybe it’s not as obvious, but it hovers over everything they do.
It’s like a persistent cloud that covers every exchange with its shade while precipitating its presence in subtle ways.
That’s not to say that it takes away from their sincerity.
If you’re like me, you receive their embrace but can’t help noticing the funny aftertaste.
Therefore, I wonder,
why does it trigger my sensitivity?
What is there for them to gain?
There isn’t a debate for which I need to be persuaded to favor them in any way.
But wait, maybe there’s something else in…
The value of sincerity is found in the fact that there’s nothing left to ask.
But if there is, with someone you fully trust, just ask away,
for you know, you must,
especially knowing that person’s sincerity is intact.
But what happens if you have a terrible past?
Well, you don’t have to wear it on your face
as if the world is going to ask.
But there will come a day when you’ll understand
what it is to be one with someone,
and feeling loved will need to be true,
not just a mask.
A mask for who?
I moved along in my head;
I looked around;
found your bed;
there you were so perfect,
but something's off with your face.
I looked at all the faces
surrounding you in your room,
but none of them were recent.
And as you slept,
I felt you waking up in my chest.
It's nothing new;
I missed you.
But why did I come back here?
It's a mistake I had to make.
I have a life somewhere else;
it's far away;
it's waiting—a family built with love.
Then suddenly you're waking up;
you turn to me;
I'm not there.
a.k.a The Pen Of Adon