To me patience looks like this...
It is this huge man will a long black overcoat with pockets
with shiny glasses and Grey eyes
and a face that is aged
and a smile that looks between a frown and a smirk
and a wooden smoke pipe in his mouth
with raggedy bag rip jeans
and black boots
He sits on this wooden chair
and is near a large tree
and he lights his smoke pipe
put one arm on top of one thigh
leans over and stares with you with those ancient, deep eyes
and says in a deep tone..
“go head, speak I'm waiting”
but then this will also describe what understanding looks like
So then they are both the same?....

When I wash my dishes
I wonder if it will crack
the extremities of hot water mixed with lead
steaming its skin
making it dry and wet at the same time

When I put my wet plate in the air
the water dripping from its surface
I wonder if it will become my heart
the red moon
that will drip with blood
staining the floor
consistent, but flexible

When I put my dishes away
I wonder if
the dishes dry due to their exhausted fear
from being touch
for indulgence
and thoes plates that crack
finally becomes tolerant...

God is the one who created the universe
The one who created us mere mortals
We are nothing without god aren't we?
But that is only partially true
God is nothing without us
without it's creations it can't exist
as what it creates shows its values
and when there is no value
it does not exist
so who is truly god?
It is definitely not us

I don't know what to do
I try to escape
but I am imprison in hate
and although I submit
all they do to me
is spit

when i cry
all by myself to call for help
I begin to drown
and loose my light

"my light" I exclaimed. Thats what I need
I try to reach the sun but all it does it scream!

"Go away!" it said You do not deserve
But why does it not give me the confidence I need
in order to utilize its light
and spread to all who plead?

Betrayal I felt is only left now
dark and light I had neither crowned
I tried to reach inside for help
but both sides oppress me without a doubt

what do you do when you're oppressed
by the evilest of witches and the saints of pests?
do you just submit and hope the best?
And let your fate just slit your neck?

If you have money you work
and if you work you have money
and the cycle continues
especially in a place like New York
that do the same thing over and over again

But there is a difference between workers
I am a worker
I look at the tall buildings in New York
Like a medieval anarchy

the top full of kings and queens,dukes and knights
the bottom full of peasants and slaves
and at the bottom full of witches burning in hell

those witches burning in greed and sin that they did not commit
there feet burning in ashes from their work from surrendering to the higher ups
crying to be release to the surface
but knowing they will always be chain to their hell.

So while I was sweeping the floor for greedy saints
I look up, took my broom and fly
fly just like a witch
breaking my ties with eternal hell
forever severing the bonds of surrendering and greed
of work and money

Why don't you never see me cry
just because you don't see tears in my face
doesn't mean I didn't cry
as this body is a shell of my true form

i cried in the bathroom stall
in the cafeteria
in the park
in my house
I cried elsewhere
except in front of you
and when you stare into my eyes in a casually way
I cry again
as you again do not understand me
But it doesn't matter as you won't see