Every time I see those numbers,
I stiffen up and wonder,
How to go about this as I've done this before
But missing the right words,
Opening doors leading to nowhere.
Sometimes I ponder of my grandfather,
Only wishing to soak up the language
And never lose moisture but I lost my worth,
Becoming a disappointment by denying my heritage,
I would say ******* but all I can do is apologize, RIP.
I fell miles away from the tree
But the other 9 apples keep close in proximity,
Morphing into shrubs to reach my roots
To corrupt me but I made a promise
To properly grow a garden, but with my mind's seeds.
Even when I'm shrouded in darkness, I'll push aside the bushes
And chase the sun to further the progression I'm on,
But sometimes it covers my vision, that's the effect of humble beginnings,
Relying on 101010, but I fear I'm losing,
But I know me so I'll keep going
I meant to post this on the 10th but its difficult to write when I attempt to give myself a deadline.
I wrote something like this way back. The problems were that it was cheesily written, cryptic, and 3 pages long. I basically took its ideas and simplified it in this poem. There's more to what's actually written but I`ll just leave at this for no.
