Thursday, May 7, 2009


A piece of him still wants to "bodybag" the man who killed his Father.


Other peaces within him, give him hope to go further.


People Like Him know Struggle.
People Like Him know hope is faith's cousin on peace's side.


First cousins to pride yet he still feels that sting, on the inside.


They say, "There ain't no justice, there's just us."


They say, "If you've never succumb to starvation, then you don't know what "I'm hungry" is."


Well, he's starving because He's hungry for Justice.


Non-Poetic.
Unsure of the thoughts of the Man.
The inner man that sometimes never shows his face.
The guy he calls his conscience.
The guy no one esle understands but Him.
He damn sure lost time being who he wasn't but really hoping he'd be accepted for who he was.


We all have.




No Justice.
No Peace.
We affirmed.


Leaders of the pack, well learned.


They see him in the noonday
As he stands on the dial of his expressions.
No clear. No concise recollection.
But he, cherished the day he saw truth for what it was.
Evil for what it does.
Long Live The Tiger Within Him.
Blind Man.
But he Sees.
Life more beautifully.
Now, he sees clearly.
He satirically gives himself a glimmer of hope.
tried and true, he wore that cloak.
Standing on the high leverage between revenge and sustainability.
but triumphs engaged him.
gave him that feeling of freedom that no peace without dilligence could reward him.
I applaud him.
No Justice.
No Peace.
Only prosperity to seek the highest coast.
he tagged his possessions because he's territorially sound
conversated before he knew what to converse was.
sang those songs.
he, wrote that verse.
then comes the rehearsal.
time to practice what he preaches, time to donate to the weak.
giving of his own blood to save his brother.
time to practice what he preaches.
time to face success
and
defeat.
part of him, blames you for the insanity.
Then Love showed her face.
taught what it could feel like to
f
a
l
l.
in love.
feel that fire.
feel that worth.
some of it he accepted.
Some he didn't, and won't.
that feeling from his head to the toes became the norm.
paused the persecution for the moment.
paused the feeling of emptiness.
paused that fear of facing the rest.
twas a merely acquainted road block.
knocked boots.
Yet here he stands proudly.
chest protruding the sky.
nose has now followed.
confidence be his coat of many colors.
He be his Father's Son.
His Mother's Sun.
Her ray of hope, Her golden one.
No Justice, No Peace?
Not to me.
because through every line before me.
He Be Me.








6 comments:

The Real Mochahontas said...

love this

The Real Mochahontas said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Mr.Socialight said...

appreciate that.

Mizrepresent said...

that was awesome and very thought provoking. Well done!

Chrissy said...

That was excellent.

Anonymous said...

Bravo....!!! This is deep. It leaves me wondering what decision he made in the end. I hope he chose real peace; which is never found in a vengful act. Revenge gives but a temporary high for the spirit that is down. And, unfortunately, it keeps the cycle of violence going and in the end, it leaves no peace. This very poetic version of real life made me question what is justice! Very thought provoking. Creative, Real life poetry at its best. Thanks for writing and sharing!