one day you were all I taught about
and the next you weren’t
I’m letting go
I’m moving on
I blame you.
For the dreams that died.
For the love that i will never have.
For the smile that you took from me.
I wanted to fly far away but you
Burnt my wings keeping me
In the cold darkness.
I blame you for killing me.
I like to take a negative feeling and turn it
Into something good.
We should allow people room to grow and breathe support someone in there dreams
#blame #dreams #darkness #killing
can i introduce
to my gold fork
My soul hunts cheap justice
Over the plains of carpeted floors
Beyond the savannah of desk chairs
Away from the huts of curious minds
and the shine of polished nameplates
My eyes seek cheap justice
Looking to the sea of masked faces
A mountain of guilt stands in between
An avalanche of shame crashes down
Forcing me back to my silent retreat
My heart finds cheap justice
in a kind word, or maybe four?
Or in an arm around the shoulder -
Maybe a smile as wide as the Amazon.
Priceless for me, an expense of your gesture.
Funny how one small gesture from one person can lift you up amidst all the other horrible things and people around.
You may have seen me
like leaves green of a summer tree
Never cared to understand
the roots that grew beneath
You may have heard me
like the noise of a falling pin
For in your ears, naught but
your own voice is sweet melody
You may have known me
like gentle waves atop the sea-
Ignored the raging maelstrom,
but can you escape the tsunami?
We become selfless by caring for others,
yet we become careless by caring for others.
is as genuine
as my Pain.
I have got through life like a wounded animal.
Head down, avoiding further conflict.
When I look back on it all, I see no trace of me, no flattened grasss, no displacement.
Even the air remains undisturbed.
I want to come back as a crazy African rhino with a arrow lodged in his ear.
My best work seldom trends.
Imagine the disappointment
That the lack of that annointment
To the fragile sends.
It’s sheer luck
That I don’t give a ****
And completely possible
But more likely
Some AI algorithm decides
Whether my work is seen or obscure dies.
Don’t seek validation
From social media engagement
Your audience is so diluted
The metrics so easily disputed.
Art takes it time
To connect audience to your rhyme.
Art is the power of your words.
Don’t measure it by likes nor loves or views
Or any other social cues.
Have you best expressed the sentiment you feel?
If yes then ******* my friend your art is real.
Don’t measure your worth by what social media says.