All these words i embellish with this pen,
are just a window they use to look within
they just might flow when i ingest this gin
but all im doing is recording my sins



they dont understand as my chest starts to burn
i take a deep breath, my fears scatter as ashes in an urn
and i begin flowing, the words begin to churn
coming out of me as the syllables begin to turn


I knew as soon as I saw Mrs. Angelou's "Still I Rise"
There was nothing that could make me lose faith, not even their lies
The nonbelievers were the killers in my eyes
and those very nonbelievers were who lost my ties