RIP
to those insignificant things
You know, nothing really
just our dreams
Sometimes they are impossible
but they give us something to believe
but it seems our dreams are falling like human beings
like a black man in America
it's like they have no meaning

My greatest nightmare seems to be coming true
It's like every dream or hope I have is falling apart like meat in a zoo
maybe being real doesn't appeal to the dreamer in you
But it's like my dreams are crushed every single day or two

If you had an hour to live..
Would you spend that hour saying that an hour isn't enough.

Step it up
Step it up to the bars
Break through so I dont break down
Quit asking how long it will take
Start paying attention to the steps as you escape now
That dungeon
Lonely cerebellum
Celebrity status dwelling
Inhaling stale stagnant smoke
A magnetizing choke
As the **** ties tantric knots iside your throat
Thoughts float from the dark
Poke and **** the slot to the key of happiness

Do I regress?*
If I regret my next step
Or do I stay in the night
Crying I wished I'd try
Into a broken mic
Downtrodden eyes
Staring at a life with my body nothing but a reason to build a shadow behind a hollow object

No.
There is a force inside of me
A silent tide in me
Feeding a violent seed
Raising a timeless tree
Etchings proclaiming I'm poetry
Lasting forever
Engrained internally
The grains absorbing the light
The limbs moving towards
The beautiful afternoon rays

The noon's greygolden meshes make
All night a veil,
The shorelamps in the sleeping lake
Laburnum tendrils trail.

The sly reeds whisper to the night
A name-- her name-
And all my soul is a delight,
A swoon of shame.

The ability to write poetry is the ability to understand life
To know it's not always about being the best
That it's not always about who can do what
Poetry is emotion
It is the silent words that lurk in our minds
It is our unsaid weaknesses exploited to their full potential
Which then makes it our strengths
It is the bridge that connects us to the mortal world
It is the proof that we are human
That we can cry
That we can laugh
That we can have remorse...
To us poet it is so much then just words on a piece of paper
It is our heart and our pride
As poets we all have our reasons why we write
Because we all come from our different backgrounds
Some of us have lost sight of the light
Other bath in it
There are even some who sit upon the border because they can't make up their mind
But as poets we all have one thing in common
We write because we are not immortal
We write because poetry is our life
We write because  poetry is our hope
And if we didn't have it we'd all be in a different place
Most likely a place beyond darkness
Even if the reason we write is joy
What's the point of being happy if everyone else is not
So we write to share
That's what it means to be a poet