I am a father
not because of biological deed
but rather of the wisdom I feed

I am a father
not because of the title borne
but rather for the life that’s worn

I am a father
not because of ancestral traits
but rather the heart felt weights

I am a father
not because it’s a given right
but rather embraced with might

I am a father
not because of some legal ritual
but rather acts that are habitual

I am father
not because of profit or fee
but rather by the family of “we”

I am a father
because I desire to be
I am a father
because it’s a gift to be
I am a father
because He told me to be.

When will we open our eyes to finally see
beauty in the colors rooted from human leaves

When will we consent to the true merit of those souls
who stand for justice and peace, so brave so bold

When will we abolish the very dark reality
of those seeking only to cause pain and fatality

When will we throw off the shackles and bonds
tying us to materialistic possessions and false cons

When will we dwell in life’s presence, less ego
to nourish our brothers' and sisters' passage, as we go

When will we become more powerful and worth
in meekness so we can righteously inherit this earth.

...I just need to vent cause I feel like all these events are relentless...never ending in my eyes so I try to disguise my pain
Being black is exhausting but I realize that my eyes are still on the prize
Synthesized in my mind that I'm less than what I am
I push forward...maximum capacity I fathom thee opening of a plethora of new beginnings
I'm a phenomenal woman but I'm beat down...torn down...worn down
My place of homage is showing me it ain't safe to live here no more
Vacate the primacies
Shut down...lock down anyway possible
Shacked down even by our minds so far deep we don't know how to break free
So being black is so freaking exhausting
Gotta make sure everyone is comfortable around you cuz your tint is slightly darker
Don't **** nobody of cuz you may not come home
Driving while black you may not come home
Walking while black you may not come home
Eating out while black hey you just may not get good service
Social injustice flashes before our eyes everyday like a virtual reality...game but it's a shame that it's become our reality that we gotta play
It's not about panda or Timmy turner cause at the end of the day that ain't real
I see reels and reels of Trayvon Martin, Sandra Bland, Michael Brown, Eric Gardner, Tanisha Anderson, Tamir Rice, and the list goes on
But I WILL NOT WRITE MY SUICIDE NOTE!!
My people it's valid to be angry but fight with your mind
Keep your eyes on God
Even though sometimes you forget then you remember the harsh realities that consume your mind
Then you find your back in that hole that God seems to hold you up in
"Thank you Father for your saving grace that you never seem to misplace"
I can never culminate all my feelings into one shallow place
So I put my fist up till the victory is won
Even though the feeling still pierces my soul like shard glass
Being black is stressful!
Negating the fact that I'm just as good as you
Beating me down so low that I believe it to be true
So I live it
Push through it everyday
As I cry my tears I gain more strength
I'm the hulk
No time to sulk
**** them with your poise and knowledge
Don't let your anger make you be stupid
There's beauty in my brokenness
Let it bleed through these words as I emerge a serge of a glimpse of my pain
Let the towns of blackness rain through my veins as I bleed my pain on this page
I can't let my self stand and be enraged
Caged in a sound of my life's repeated tracks in my head
Yeah being black is a trying experience but I keep my soul lifted up!
So this isn't my suicide note but a warning to those who persecute me!!
YOU WILL NOT WIN!!
FISTS UP!!

I believe in GOD
And I praise Him!
His greatness can not be understood.
No matter where life takes me my hope lies in Him alone.
I'm hopeless without His grace and mercies.
I thank Him daily because He's worthy of all the praise.
There's no one like Jesus Christ.

Here we are, children of the Almighty Being
finished in the image to multiply and prosper, freely
as we continue to slumber in an endless dream
manifesting itself in a smug like comfort, so willingly

Time to grow and see pass the learned behavior
Time to grow and embrace one's spiritual flavor
Time to grow and regain the fruits of the garden
Time to grow and live in peace on this earthly heaven

Here we go, children never really rising
satisfied with the glamour of a self-indulgent life, compliantly
as we contend to control this false existence
clinging on this lifeline with defiance, so desperately

Time to grow and see the difference in others
Time to grow and embrace the leaves of Fall's weather
Time to grow and sip the love of the Carpenter's chalice
Time to grow and grasp wisdom of the Word without malice

For the time to grow is here, set aside for us to be clear
on a life we should lead, meek in the fullness of our deeds.

In order to save some money
Which in hindsight wasn't smart
Me and my buddies got together
To make our own fireworks

And as luck would have it
We found all we need under the kitchen sink
The whole time looking to do this cheap
Instead we came out free

Knowing this day would draw a crowd
As soon as the rumor mill filled up
So in our vast wisdom with a few cells missing
We mixed the batch up in Jimmy's tub

Not being exact on science
As illustrated in that magazine
We felt no need to measure
And might have gone a bit extreme

As soon as the stuff started bubbling up
That thought did cross our minds
Remember at the start, saying it wasn't smart
And that little mention of hindsight

With the size of the flash, little wonder we're not ash
And still have all our fingers and our toes
It's hard to explain the size of the bang
And why now Jimmy's house is one big hole

But we did put on a show not soon forgotten
That could be seen from outer space
And where Jimmy's house used to be
There's now a community pool in it's place

So come and join us on this holiday
Burgers, beer, and of course fireworks
In fact we're heading to Davy's house now
To mix a few things up...

Sweat.
Like great drops of Blood.
"Not my will, but Yours be done."
He
denied.
Himself.
He denied.
His comfort.
He denied.
His fear.
He denied.
His own life.
And took up the Cross.
For me.
For you.
"Not my will, but Yours be done."

I am His.
And He calls me to the Cross.
To deny myself.
For His will.
"Not my will, but Yours be done."
Shall I follow?
Or stay comfortable?
Shall I choose the Way of the Cross?
And count all else as loss?

Not my will.
But His.
Be done.