Dec 2015
Hello beauties, my name is Austin D. Sifford.
If I may, please spare a moment;
I've prepared some needed words.
I'll get straight down to business,
and make short this introduction.
So if your ears are not too full
let them taste this sweet concoction:
So, I take care of my hair
Keep it cool, keep from frizzin'
I hit the gym five days of seven
Just the basics, not body-buildin'
I like my clothes, rock the shades,
but I've got a major question:
Who cares* what I look like,
Why's it matter what I'm wearin',
What good is outer style
If I'm a beast behind the skin?
Too many people, is the answer, I guess
I mean it's cool, right, everyone sins
But not to me, you see, I see it different
I strive my life to conquer sin
Why?
'Cause, listen: one Man didn't
He lived every second to please our Father
So don't you try to tell me we're Self-Pleasure's sons & daughters
Why you checkin' on externals
When the heart inside's infernal?
Now, God knows I love my beanie
But if I had myself a genie
I wouldn't be wishing for a cap
Or some Levis or the Lugz
I'd be wishing for a hand to hold,
Just some love, a friendly hug
For one to show me that they care
For a heart that's not afraid to dare
To be a better man within
I'd rather shine behind the skin
We don't need cash, and I don't want bling
No-- what we need, people, is a reason to sing
We need a Savior, man,
We need a bigger plan
I hope you'll understand this,
Guys, we've gotta take his hand
The world will never be happy
With shirts at three-hundred fifty
That ring may give you style
But what gives hope to your child?
Does your house? Does your car?
Do his toys? Or does his father?
Look I'm not trying to bother,
I ain't just here to preach
But you're flashing those ******, tanning at the beach
Ladies, where is your beauty?
On your skin? They just leech,
you know? Those guys all over,
they don't care about you,
just wanna know what you will do
It's time you wake up, and shake up
All this fake-up with your make-up
The jewel is in your heart,
and, girl, it's been there from the start
Look what Hollywood's paying, guys,
Now I'm not playing, right?
Now people are killing,
they're serial
While your just obsessing
with material
Hey media, whatchyoo saying'?
Sell your lies to the world
But I'M NOT PAYING
People, ask what matters here,
While you look in the mirror
Who's the preacher?
Go in deeper
You buy what they sell
You wear what they tell
But is it really worth it all
Is there Botox in Hell?
We've gotta ask ourselves
Really ask yourself
Where will I be taking
All these trends and this wealth?
What I'm saying: this is bogus
All this fashion hocus pocus
What you need is to refocus
And don't let society choke us
Now you've got an empty feeling
And your culture keeps on stealing
Your sinking deeper and deeper
While your cost just gets steeper
But wealth's not found inside your wallet
And it's about time someone called it
Happiness is only found when the masks all hit the ground
Don't live up to what they say,
You won't reach that anyway
The heart is what needs fixing
Not your hair, drop the bags
Tell the truth, show some love--
now that, my friends, that's swag
Let's get rich, people, let's get beautiful
Let's get real, and let's get valuable
Now listen to this, you People Mag
Seventeen, yo, this is rad:
Happiness is found one place
One thing will put a smile on that face,
All sorrow gone, without a trace
It's the love and the Truth
That will set you free
True class created you
Real value lives in me
If I may, please spare a moment;
I've prepared some needed words.
I'll get straight down to business,
and make short this introduction.
So if your ears are not too full
let them taste this sweet concoction:
So, I take care of my hair
Keep it cool, keep from frizzin'
I hit the gym five days of seven
Just the basics, not body-buildin'
I like my clothes, rock the shades,
but I've got a major question:
Who cares* what I look like,
Why's it matter what I'm wearin',
What good is outer style
If I'm a beast behind the skin?
Too many people, is the answer, I guess
I mean it's cool, right, everyone sins
But not to me, you see, I see it different
I strive my life to conquer sin
Why?
'Cause, listen: one Man didn't
He lived every second to please our Father
So don't you try to tell me we're Self-Pleasure's sons & daughters
Why you checkin' on externals
When the heart inside's infernal?
Now, God knows I love my beanie
But if I had myself a genie
I wouldn't be wishing for a cap
Or some Levis or the Lugz
I'd be wishing for a hand to hold,
Just some love, a friendly hug
For one to show me that they care
For a heart that's not afraid to dare
To be a better man within
I'd rather shine behind the skin
We don't need cash, and I don't want bling
No-- what we need, people, is a reason to sing
We need a Savior, man,
We need a bigger plan
I hope you'll understand this,
Guys, we've gotta take his hand
The world will never be happy
With shirts at three-hundred fifty
That ring may give you style
But what gives hope to your child?
Does your house? Does your car?
Do his toys? Or does his father?
Look I'm not trying to bother,
I ain't just here to preach
But you're flashing those ******, tanning at the beach
Ladies, where is your beauty?
On your skin? They just leech,
you know? Those guys all over,
they don't care about you,
just wanna know what you will do
It's time you wake up, and shake up
All this fake-up with your make-up
The jewel is in your heart,
and, girl, it's been there from the start
Look what Hollywood's paying, guys,
Now I'm not playing, right?
Now people are killing,
they're serial
While your just obsessing
with material
Hey media, whatchyoo saying'?
Sell your lies to the world
But I'M NOT PAYING
People, ask what matters here,
While you look in the mirror
Who's the preacher?
Go in deeper
You buy what they sell
You wear what they tell
But is it really worth it all
Is there Botox in Hell?
We've gotta ask ourselves
Really ask yourself
Where will I be taking
All these trends and this wealth?
What I'm saying: this is bogus
All this fashion hocus pocus
What you need is to refocus
And don't let society choke us
Now you've got an empty feeling
And your culture keeps on stealing
Your sinking deeper and deeper
While your cost just gets steeper
But wealth's not found inside your wallet
And it's about time someone called it
Happiness is only found when the masks all hit the ground
Don't live up to what they say,
You won't reach that anyway
The heart is what needs fixing
Not your hair, drop the bags
Tell the truth, show some love--
now that, my friends, that's swag
Let's get rich, people, let's get beautiful
Let's get real, and let's get valuable
Now listen to this, you People Mag
Seventeen, yo, this is rad:
Happiness is found one place
One thing will put a smile on that face,
All sorrow gone, without a trace
It's the love and the Truth
That will set you free
True class created you
Real value lives in me
| Written on, or sooner than, February 6, 2012 |
**Story**
I've never been popular. I'm also very short, so have often been made fun of as the small one. The weak one. And I've certainly never been popular with girls.
In high school, I began weightlifting, took a fitness & strength class, and did parkour. I started getting pretty muscular, and could impress guys in the weightroom who were way bigger than me, because of how much I could lift in comparison to my size and body-weight. I like to show off with backflips, handsprings, etc. A few girls were finally attracted to me. A female friend of mine said she liked how "buff" I was and that she was impressed. It felt good to finally have something, to finally not be the loser, I guess. To finally, maybe, be valuable in the eyes of some of my peers.
I found myself looking at my growing physique too much, and worrying about my hair too much...putting too much effort into making myself externally attractive.
I was a devout Christian at this time, and my constant attempt to grow spiritually and have a "relationship" with God really started to remind me that the outside isn't what matters, and isn't where my focus of improvement or of beauty should be. What I put the spotlight on for others to should, instead, be the things with real, lasting value.
While that stuff was in my mind during this time, the moment that actually sparked the poem was while talking with a friend (over text) whom I cared about like a sister. She was very insecure, and was reading Seventeen Magazine during our conversation, soaking up more destructive lies. My protective nature angered me for her sake and got me thinking about how the popular media has damaged us with its influence in all these ways, so I sat down and wrote this poem on the spot, after explaining to her why I wish she wouldn't read those. I then sent it to her. Her name's Markay.
**Trivia**
The intro was not written with the rest of the poem. I added it over a year later, on March 10, 2013.
I originally had this titled "True Value". My last line says "real value". Why did I then call the poem "true value"? Beats me.
© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poems, but I ask that you show courtesy. Please be honest about the authorship by attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford
**Story**
I've never been popular. I'm also very short, so have often been made fun of as the small one. The weak one. And I've certainly never been popular with girls.
In high school, I began weightlifting, took a fitness & strength class, and did parkour. I started getting pretty muscular, and could impress guys in the weightroom who were way bigger than me, because of how much I could lift in comparison to my size and body-weight. I like to show off with backflips, handsprings, etc. A few girls were finally attracted to me. A female friend of mine said she liked how "buff" I was and that she was impressed. It felt good to finally have something, to finally not be the loser, I guess. To finally, maybe, be valuable in the eyes of some of my peers.
I found myself looking at my growing physique too much, and worrying about my hair too much...putting too much effort into making myself externally attractive.
I was a devout Christian at this time, and my constant attempt to grow spiritually and have a "relationship" with God really started to remind me that the outside isn't what matters, and isn't where my focus of improvement or of beauty should be. What I put the spotlight on for others to should, instead, be the things with real, lasting value.
While that stuff was in my mind during this time, the moment that actually sparked the poem was while talking with a friend (over text) whom I cared about like a sister. She was very insecure, and was reading Seventeen Magazine during our conversation, soaking up more destructive lies. My protective nature angered me for her sake and got me thinking about how the popular media has damaged us with its influence in all these ways, so I sat down and wrote this poem on the spot, after explaining to her why I wish she wouldn't read those. I then sent it to her. Her name's Markay.
**Trivia**
The intro was not written with the rest of the poem. I added it over a year later, on March 10, 2013.
I originally had this titled "True Value". My last line says "real value". Why did I then call the poem "true value"? Beats me.
© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poems, but I ask that you show courtesy. Please be honest about the authorship by attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford
