Soothing sounds of future memories
Pictures painted in the glory of pain
The beauty found in such ethereal places
Is especially so in the desperation
Emerging from watching the truth
Of the other side of elation
Never absorbing the joy in the mundane
Finding it exceptional
Only when threatened by the violence of truth
Truth is a reminder of fragility in all things
Manifesting itself in the clear consciousness
Of the possibility of pure anguish
The very thought of the mundane being temporary
Of that  routine being ripped apart
Shredded in terrifying facts of probability
Need vs want is a privilege
The truth is evil
The only freedom that can ever exist is truth
Faced with the amputation of what was once meaningless
Transforms the mundane to profound
There will always be loss
There will always be an opportunity to be reborn
Perception is reality
Mood is a choice
Absolute truth is a fallen angel
Yet it remains something for which to strive
Life in retrospect is not living
Biding time between bouts of honesty
Treading stagnant water
Fulfillment does not dwell in the in-between
Satisfaction is not born of boredom
The world that surrounds each life
Is only what that life has built in its down time
For there can be both joy and pain in all things
Both apathy and interest in each new view
Emotions are a powerful thing, as is logic
Yet if they never marry, there can only be lived a half-life
Peace is born in the unity of all that we are

An onslaught of rain
dripping on his battered sneakers,

Head down with grief
he just wants to call the reaper.

His plentiful cries
disguised because of the tormenting sky.

No more love in his heart,
even outside it appears dry.

He repeatedly asks why,
the sorrowful beginning of his demise.

His head soaking wet,
just this one moment left him baptized

The blink of an eye is too quick
for a soul to leave it's eyes.

Even the most wise of our time
couldn't protect the prayers of this size.

That memory controlling his head,
taking up all the space once used to plan ahead.

He had committed no crime,
but he sees in constantly stuck on rewind.

Nowhere to go,
Nowhere to be,

he crawls to the phone booth to hear her voice
one last time.

By: Cedric McClester

In a world
That’s so politically correct
What are we to call ‘em
Thugs -  or criminal suspects
Perhaps it’s something else
That we should project
Maybe our language
Needs to be checked

Must urban youth
Be marginalized
As a result of their misdeeds
Or can we recognize
That they have certain needs
They haven’t realized
We read the news feeds
And then we demonize

Is it a riot
Or an insurrection
Maybe it requires
Some more introspection
Before we decide
It’s their predilection
Because the evidence
Leads us in that direction

I don’t know
Who it was that stated
What poverty often does
Is underrated
And victims of poverty
Are often hated
Though the larger implications
Are complicated


© Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.

Ive always listened to what you've said.
Not just the details.
But everything in bled.

You told me loving lies.
Left my true heart behind.
The thoughts piled up.
Words tangled in blue.

I hope you remember.
The laughter we shared.
The tickling games.
How i always whine.

Its time i take my rest.
Darling,
Life is cruel.
The tricks and it's lies.

I gave the best i could.
Though I cry and question why.
I have to leave.

Now.
She have your last name.
I hope she receives all that she deserves.
I know that goodbye is the beginning of
Uncertainties that the future might bring.
But darling, this is my goodbye.

Even you don't know my fears,
Sometimes I don't.
I try to hide them from myself,
But they just eat
Eat
EAT
On my insides,
Begging my attention,
Boiling in my acidic blood,
Screaming in my ears,
My mind,
I'm growing numb to my surroundings,
Dissolving into my own background,
Yet it still
Eats,
Burning holes in my heart,
The soles of my shoes
Wearing thin as I try to run from it
Only to return
Again.

You don't know.

You can't understand my pain,
You simply can't.

Why?
You say I have the perfect life--
From the outside, I guess I do,
No.
You cannot understand how everyday of my life I am
Scolded because
Parents are stressed out with finance,
People,
Me--
Especially me.

You don't know the pain of watching your cute,
Sweet,
Little brother-- autistic--
Struggle through school with "friends" who act like fiends.
You have never heard the heartbreaking sound
When his anxiety grows and he cries out
In his own pain:
"Why? Why do I have autism? Why can't I do it?
I'm so dumb I'm so dumb
I'm
So
Dumb!"

And then Mom and Dad are over there,
Their own tired selves,
Trying unsuccessfully to comfort him.

You don't know the pain of an older sister,
Beautiful,
Talented,
Everything you feel you lack in,
Fall into the wrong crowd,
Now contemplating suicide.
You loved her the whole time,
Even through all her hate and addiction.

And you don't know the pain of family ignoring you,
Like they did me--
Like I didn't get enough at school,
Never being able to tell friends from fakes,
So biting my tongue and putting on a foolish, lying smile for just one more day--
One more day.

But there is no one to lie to--
There is none here left to ask questions,
Even the simple ones like
"How are you?"

It hurts.
Pain,
It's ice cold and devours.
Frigid hands grip,
Clinging to the edge of the cliff,
Not knowing how long they can hang on.
Hot tears burn their way down clammy cheeks and
Through the soul.
Knowing that falling was eminent to fall--
Why was it caused by
Trust--
Trying--
Now it comes to a short and sudden
End.
The silence-- Life now,
It ticks by,
Painstakingly
Slow,
But faster than the rest. I feel my grip slip...

I miss you.

Not in the physical kind of way,
You are still here--
I can reach out and touch you now.

But things are different now.
Now all I do is
Drag
Drag
Drag behind you,
You even forgot I was here.

We use to talk,
Walking to our classes,
Sometimes passing them,
Lost,
Not physically,
But in deep conversations,
Where our words were equals,
Even if we weren't.

Now we hardly say "hello,"
Sitting next to you,
Your presence is comforting,
Your silence is not.
Being near you makes me miss you more.

Do you ever miss me too?

How long ago
Did you list your priorities?

The small ones,
Like me.
Forgotten at the bottom of the list.

I do understand.
I am only a reflection,
Without purpose,
******* the attention of those around me,
The ones that worry about
Insignificant things.

And stop lying.

You have let go of me,
You haven't let go of the words
Or past.

But of course you let go,
You could barely hold on to
Your own sanity.

I can only hold myself accountable to the crushing feeling I have now.