Change
On the horizon
Pockets are empty
Black meets blue
In hues of the pain of yesterday

Change
In hand
The vending machine's empty
Six miles out of reach, out of juice,
And out of gas

Change
The television channel
Vapid Anchors are empty
Teleprompter madness
In full make up and air conditioning

Change
Her mind
Her heart is empty
Abused by the fallacy in the word love
On the lips of liars

Change
Of venue
His smile is empty
He feels the souls too deeply
There is no one here to notice the smile isn't real

Change
A life
The Child's eyes are empty
The streets are kinder
Than the junkies who sold him for a fix

Change
The world
The people are empty
Media drones brainwashed
Into apathetic zombies

That is how to stop
                                         Change

undoubtedly

                   rock...

with
        brittle
                    skin.

stoked

         fire...

burning
              from
     within...

.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...

Daddy somebody shot that man
I heard this eleven year old say
I didn't really understand at the time
I just knew a man was dead

But with the years that followed
I came to learn how much he meant
To this world in its great need
And how well that time was spent

He preached of equality, he preached of peace
As he spoke of man as one
He marched his way down city streets
Facing adversity with the face of love

He was done with all the hatred
That fills so many lives
To him color was a vision
Of equality in his eyes

A life so young, a life cut short
By the wicked in us all
Will you stand with me and follow him
Will you heed his righteous call

To call every man your brother
The way Martin Luther King Jr. did
To keep the vision of this visionary alive
A reality in which all mankind should live