Jun 2014
Put my soul on the waiting list of life and death my dear god
I want to explore the world with awe the way a toddler does my god
I want to question the sole purpose of existence the way a child does my god
Why can’t i be optimistic and or stupid and ignorant and happy the way a 6 year old is my god?
Why must you build us men and women with the ability to learn more of the ugly than the beauty my dear god?
Why do your trees and your mountains reach for the heavens when your gravity keeps us imprisoned to the soil you so carefully made for my feet my dear god?
Why do your care for me so, when the world you created is slowly being devoured by the very men and women you spoil with your fruit my god?
why do i feel that you are so proud of every single one of us that you will let us destroy each other with the very gifts you’ve bestowed us with my dear god?
An idea is a weapon.
A talent is ammunition.
A story is a religion
Infinite
Omniscient
But distant.
Why do my ideas resemble that of a seductress my dear god?
Easy to have, but hard to keep.
you speak to me so much that I’m never able to sleep.
i forgot what a dream is supposed to be.
but terrified i am at three at the devils hour
i feel his power all around me.
every time i see a sound or my sleepy eyes race back forth frantically i begin to hallucinate crazily of the evil that is trying to take me.
But from a dream i awake.
Granted my life i take
Awake with thanks i do
To something in the sky
Do i thank?
I do
Many believe god isn’t what is to be thought of as omniscient.
He’s just as beautiful as the man who appears every night around the world on a fateful day called Christmas
I’m guessing the purpose of a belief has missed us.
Hoping for something is the thing that keeps us living.
That drives.
We live for something
Always.
We live for our babies
As men
Our ladies and queens
As women
Our families and children
As children
Our hopes to live as men
Our hopes to live as women
Our hopes to live as man and wife
Our hopes to live as man and man
Our hopes to live as wife and wife
To live as mothers, brothers, sisters, fathers
To live as blood cells swimming through our veins
We are the blood of the world.
We are coursing through the veins we call streets.
Now you tell me.
Isn’t blood red?
Isn’t it all the same despite the its type
Alive it keeps we.
The only difference is the type and still **** aint change
Because no matter what
WE GIVE LIFE.
Let’s not differentiate
I now pronounce myself human and life.
CAN I LIVE?
Amen-
I want to explore the world with awe the way a toddler does my god
I want to question the sole purpose of existence the way a child does my god
Why can’t i be optimistic and or stupid and ignorant and happy the way a 6 year old is my god?
Why must you build us men and women with the ability to learn more of the ugly than the beauty my dear god?
Why do your trees and your mountains reach for the heavens when your gravity keeps us imprisoned to the soil you so carefully made for my feet my dear god?
Why do your care for me so, when the world you created is slowly being devoured by the very men and women you spoil with your fruit my god?
why do i feel that you are so proud of every single one of us that you will let us destroy each other with the very gifts you’ve bestowed us with my dear god?
An idea is a weapon.
A talent is ammunition.
A story is a religion
Infinite
Omniscient
But distant.
Why do my ideas resemble that of a seductress my dear god?
Easy to have, but hard to keep.
you speak to me so much that I’m never able to sleep.
i forgot what a dream is supposed to be.
but terrified i am at three at the devils hour
i feel his power all around me.
every time i see a sound or my sleepy eyes race back forth frantically i begin to hallucinate crazily of the evil that is trying to take me.
But from a dream i awake.
Granted my life i take
Awake with thanks i do
To something in the sky
Do i thank?
I do
Many believe god isn’t what is to be thought of as omniscient.
He’s just as beautiful as the man who appears every night around the world on a fateful day called Christmas
I’m guessing the purpose of a belief has missed us.
Hoping for something is the thing that keeps us living.
That drives.
We live for something
Always.
We live for our babies
As men
Our ladies and queens
As women
Our families and children
As children
Our hopes to live as men
Our hopes to live as women
Our hopes to live as man and wife
Our hopes to live as man and man
Our hopes to live as wife and wife
To live as mothers, brothers, sisters, fathers
To live as blood cells swimming through our veins
We are the blood of the world.
We are coursing through the veins we call streets.
Now you tell me.
Isn’t blood red?
Isn’t it all the same despite the its type
Alive it keeps we.
The only difference is the type and still **** aint change
Because no matter what
WE GIVE LIFE.
Let’s not differentiate
I now pronounce myself human and life.
CAN I LIVE?
Amen-
