Lord when I feel the weight,
I wonder when I’ll break?
Lord what will it take?
For you to wake?

You tell me to rise,
When I’m fallen,
As I’m lusting looking at women’s thighs,
You’re still calling.
Waiting for me to open the door,
But I’m too busy with the allure,
With a heart anything but pure,
Looking for the cure,
When the cure has always been there.
Which makes me wonder how you could still care,
For a barren hollow dragon stuck in his lair,
Who has it all but still thinks it isn’t fair.
As he does his own thing refusing to let you steer,
Driving while drinking beer,
Was like a deer in the headlights,
Veering off into the night life,
Making choices without hindsight.
High as a kite,
Losing sight of what’s right.
Sin sure is a plight,
Believing I could reach them heights,
Without the eternal light.

As I’m feeling the weight,
Of my mistakes.
Wondering when I’ll break.
Lord what will it take?
For you to wake?

As I need divine intervention,
For the seeds I’ve sown have reaped infection.
That has made me question.
If life truly is a blessing.
As I’m stressing,
With struggles pressing,
The enemy is hitting hard,
With some boundaries blocking me from moving forward.
And my oppressors stabbing me behind my back like cowards.
But without you God I have no power,
Without you,
I Felt like Aragon kicking a helmet in the scene from two towers,
So, even though I feel under fire,
And things seem dire,
I pray that my desires,
Would honour you sire.
And if I should prosper,
I shall put it towards your empire.
And Lord though I may quake,
I hope that you can make,
This broken frame into a beautiful portrait.

So, in the times where I feel the weight,
Thinking I will break,
Wondering what it will take,
For you to wake.
I pray that I am reminded that you helped me escape.
So, when the day comes, when I reach those heavenly gates.
I shall await.
“To hear well done, good and faithful servant.”

A nervous gitty feeling in my chest,
A feeling of butterflies.
When I see her my world stops.
Trying to find the courage to ask her out.
But not sure how as my dad was never around.
To teach me “how to be a man”.
Even when he is anything but...

However, I can’t help but too daydream,
Of a version who isn’t afraid to be vulnerable.
A person unafraid of rejection.
Because it feels like rejection is all that I know.

The only person who had my back is my mother,
Through my darkest of times,
And my highest of highs.
Teaching me to be myself and treat women with respect.

So, who knows maybe that is the only advise I need.
To gather strength to ask coffee girl out.
Yes, I don’t even know her name.
Nor she know mine.

But I gotta step up,
And take that step,
Even if I can’t see the bridge.
I’m willing to take that leap of faith.

Light peaks through the darkness,
Shadows steadily retreat,
Peace returns.
A calm drifts softly down,
Like rose petals.
From a tree wiser than all my years combined.

Such sweet nectar,
Wealthier than all the gold in Asgard.
Such beautiful blossoms.
One of the many forms of wisdom.
Grown from light and darkness.
What fruit will I harness?
What blossoms shall I possess?

Dark spectres enter my minds ear.
Trying to induce fear.
Lustful temptations mixed up within desires.
Dark inclinations intrigues my fascinations,
Warped expectations bleed over other sensations.
Heart palpitations steadily increasing anticipating satisfaction.
A Marked destination that looks like desirable vacation.
However, all that’s lies ahead is suffocation and destruction.
Grass always looks greener on the other side.
But why do those that have it, sometimes commit suicide?
Maybe our emptiness inside can never truly be satisfied?
There are no easy ways or any room for compromise.
Just dark inclinations racing in the mind,
As many try to find.
A light to guide.
Them through the toxic vines.
That try to confine.
For if ya don’t move forward,
You’ll start dying.
Because if you stop trying.
You’ll be lying.
In a bed of roses,
Roses filled with a dosage of regret, shame, guilt and unattended offences.

Pain comes in two forms.
The physical and the internal.
So, externally a person can look happy,
But internally they may be crying.
What you choose to do with pain is up to you.
You can either let it fester inside of you or you can see it as a learning opportunity.
However, letting pain fester will not only hurt you but the ones you love.
For pain can turn into envy, hate, pride, hardened hearts, offence, and victimization.
Pain can also turn one towards addictions to drown out the pain.
But no matter how hard people try to drown out pain it will never satisfy.
But wisdom from pain can lead to change, healing, empathy, love, openness, and what some call “truth bombs”.
Pain can also motivate one to work harder or exercise in order to be strong enough to face any storm that may come.
You can either stay stuck in your pain,
Or you can move forward.

Suffering silently smelling sulfur.
Sliding steadily; shelter shaken.
Seldom staredown, singing selfish songs.
Sickly sociopath; studies stooges.
Soft sight; spotless simpleton.
Sets suns, shapes shadows.
Seldom shows sentimental secrets.
Sips spirits, sainthood slain.

This goes out to my favourite aunty, I love you, and I hope you don’t get upset that I’m going to talk about you taking lots of pills.  
I just want you to know that you matter to me, and I don’t hate you, it’s just I don’t like what the drugs have done to you.
So without further delay, here we go.

Yeah, aunty and me had so many good times through the years,
But when you got hooked on pills, you changed and it puts me to tears.
You're so strong and powerful, but now you forget things, and you wobble when you walk.
I know you’ve heard it all before but it hurts me to see you struggling to walk.
Always be giving me money, even if I don’t want or need it, but you say I’m a growing boy and that I should keep it.
Got me hooked to creamers, that day we were at a bus stop on the north side, got so many ***** looks because it was in a brown paper bag that we gleefully drank and didn’t attempt to hide.

People always wonder why I don’t do drugs or have a problem with it, so I tell em that I seen the horrible effects it has put on my family and that I will never roll with it.
Plus I hate the smell of smokes or ****, ever since I was born man, I knew it was something that I didn’t want or need.
Coping mechanisms, drowning down reality in toilet, life is hard man.
I don’t judge anyone that turns to drugs as a safety net.
I’m just saying that it will hurt you and your family if continue doing it.
You might end up in jail, get your kids taken away, or end up in the grave when you choose to give into it.
Addictions are hard to fight, and get out of...
You can even start to forget about what really matters,
As you are so selfish or desperate to get your fix,
Not caring how many snakes you battle or how much you have to climb those ladders.
Popping pills, rolling up, drinking till you pass out, why do addictions have to be so deceptively beautiful?

But end up so disastrous that you’ll end up in an endless cycle that you may never get out.
Society does not help either, they say it’s ok and good to get high; to sleep with whatever or whoever.
With the lie's that say "it’ll never happen to you",
"You’re invincible,"
"Just enjoy that moment, that everlasting high."
"Drink and party, buy that brand new Ferrari with your credit card, you don’t have to pay right now."
Spending until you can never pay it back, wondering how you ended up in debt and what to do now.
Ancestors died for freedom, we dying for peace and momentary happiness.
Not knowing how to adult or deal with you’re endless depression and sadness.
Plus the Government won’t help you,
Invisible hand is an imaginary deserter,
Watching as you slowly push away your friends and family away for that high.

Not everyone grows up in the best of situations,
But that doesn’t mean you can’t try to make yourself live in a better situation.
It’s your life, your choices, your consequences, and I should know because I had to deal with my selfless ideas and their enviable consequences.
My auntie’s, uncles and my dad’s mom died when they were young, and their dad was in jail.
They had to find food and shelter to survive, and I bet that was a hard thing to do when your so young.
Not surprising though, being that the residential schools did a number on native people.
Which left the next generation not knowing how to be real authentic loving people.
I will never know that kind of struggle,
But I know that we start that change by working on ourselves,  
Before we can try to heal the next generation.
Instead of sulking in what has transpired in the past.

We must move forward.  
We must do something about it, so that it can be better.
Idle no more, speaking out, becoming a person, intergrading with other cultures again.
That’s how you can stand out.
Nothing will change if don’t do anything to change it.
Know your worth, and believe that you're worth it.
Don’t become just another stereotype or statistic!
Strive to be more than what others think;
Nothing is impossible as long as you stay optimistic.