“It’s like a hand grenade,” he says,
“You only have so much control
But it is your responsibility to throw it out there”

This is poetry
This is my soul
These are my words
Shrapnel shards of
I shouldn’t be telling you this about myself
Let me pack them in

Pray I hit home
Hit you with burning chunks of truth
Burn you with passion
My passion
My stutters
Let me infect you with my
Poorly written prose

The only thing I ever wanted was for you to feel me
You feel me?

Do you feel this?
Do you?

Be honest
Because this metal will burst once the pin is pulled
And these fingers will tremble once the words are read
And I just don’t want to be lonely

I don’t want to fall asleep every night
Half drunk
With no one to hold
Maybe
Squeeze like a worry stone

Soak up my fear
You beautiful aftermath
Of word craters
And ink splatters

Let me stain you with a happy accident
Of simple passion
With the words you were looking for
So you can finally explain how you’ve felt

Know
I’ve felt that way too

It’s what I do
I feel sometimes

So take this
Ticking time bomb
Of bitter patience
And the need to be accepted
And the need to be useful
And the desire to be better

BOOM

You feel me?

You walk
around
your head
held high
and then
all the
sudden
came a
guy
You smirk
and mutter
under your breath
"***"
he pulled
out a gun
you went
from under
the sun
to being
placed into a
bag...

You think
your life
is rough
until
one day
you meet
a guy
that's tough
on the
exterior
but feels
inferior
because
he lives
in the alley
while your
from
the valley
although
your dad
and mom
are split
both are
caring
this man
you met
doesn't
know his
parents...

You are
on top
of the
world when
your car
breaks down
and you
get lost
in a
bad town
your scared
of all
the sounds
you look
around
and judge
all the
people
you see
you say
to one
"why do
you give
me that
*****
look sir?"
he says
back to
you "be-
cause you
look scurred"
you lock
your doors
and wait
for help
nothing
happens
for hours
asleep
you fell...

I walked
to class
for a
year and
a half
wishing
I could
take it
all back
Regrets
for all
the dumb
choices
i made
all the
debts I
still have
not paid.
I get
high or
drunk all
the time
and i
only
feel good
when i
write rhymes
Can I
deny
sorrow
and this
feeling
of pain
or give
a try
conquer
this shame
Looks like
I am
a sad
lonely
cold man
who once
again
will be
victim
of the
cruel act
of the
reali-
ty SMACK!

He says, "I'm not asking for much"
She gives him butterflies with every touch
He notes her on the way her eyes glow
She says "There's things you don't know"
He doesn't force her to explain
She enjoys this through her pain

He tells his friends about this girl,
"She's the most beautiful in this world"
He ignores their laughs and remarks,
"At least I think with my heart"
His friends laugh again and say this,
"Yo man lemme know after you hit"

She cries at night because she truly cares
Her sister shows concern so she shares
"There's a guy and I'm actually interested"
(She's never had relationships with time invested)
Her sister hugs her and they both cry
She stays up all night as hours go by

He continues to pursue his infatuation
She accepts forcing a sad situation
He takes his time to spite his friends
She knew exactly when it would end
The night came when he used the word "love"
She prayed that night to the Lord above...

"Dear Father,
Why did I ever experience this pain
When I didn't even know his name
I still can remember my mouth taped
The night in the alley when I was *****
My faith and hope are only beginning to fade
He won't love me when he finds out I have AIDS"           

The next day he and she decide to meet
On a particular and familiar street
She tells him everything and he looks surprised
Smiling he says, "Remember, when I said I loved your eyes"
She cries because this wasn't what was planned
He gives her something little by holding her hand.

Allow me to inform you of a road less traveled
The road our minds ignore in fear of being rattled
Simple, yet this road we won't walk out
Too afraid to confront and rarely talked about.
The TRUTH is it's title and it's not sought out
Lies become shortcuts and more common routes
Why does the TRUTH have so many confused?
The TRUTH hurts, so the lies become abused
"Honesty is the Policy," that statement only exists in Utopia
Our would consists of people suffering from a TRUTH phobia
We tell ourselves the wrong things that seem better
We wake up and our moods are decided by the weather
This makes it hard for us to acknowledge the TRUTH
Some will travel, work, or go to college for the TRUTH
To discover it and uncover it
Seeing what it's encumbered with
A gilded body, because the lies numbers win
I'm a weary soldier walking fatigued and intrigued
down the road where the TRUTH was conceived
In the midst of discovery I'm confronted with a lie
Unsure and uncomfortable I ask the TRUTH "Why?"
I find out the existence of the lie I cannot deny
So I face the lie looking it in it's eyes
I state, "Before I believe you I'd rather die"
Holding my head high, I walk into battle
A protector of TRUTH on a road less traveled