and she walked in and said
"um staying home these days"

I don't know
But I will tell her what I heard

i never even got to see your face
and you never gave me the chance to explain
that whatever you were looking for i had none
from behind you stabbed me
taking the life out of me just to score some

scrambled through my pockets
as i lay in my pool of blood
trying to reach for my daughter's locket
just to stare at it for the last time

you found no treasure on me
i was just a broken soul
trying to put life's pieces together
just a poor man

now a dead poor man lay at your feet
and you had no benefit
is you satisfied?

I told her i just wanted to tell her my imaginations
You look like a girl who would listen
Do i take a sit?

Feeling alone
The sound is too loud
It's a good day
I peruse my head to find the least of poetry
To give life
Create- love, hate, suspicion, melody, memories

She is beautiful
When she takes you to places
In reality
You wouldn't dare go alone

This is her
In all her ******
For your satisfaction

You shall admire her
Love her
Enjoy her
Re-read her
Leave her
For another piece

But she always be for you
And she
Will tell you about me
THE POET

You can't survive through music only
Here I was thinking that is what I'm trying to do
And I'm not even half as good as my little sister Jayne
Her voice is flawless, when she sings the world stops
Her chords reach to the hands of time
I am sure they refered to this peculiar being
When they said "I heard angels sing"
The neighborhood stops
And elokshin it barely does
It's as if her voice clears clean the environment of clumsy noises
Only hers reigns
But here I am a struggling poet
Barely making anything of my life
Watching my dream outgrow me like an unwanted hedge
Yet still I believe in these words
As clumsy as they are
They will speak for me
To my daughter Nealah
To my granddaughters
To the next generation
Of Jokonia

I had a dream