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Rickey Spence Oct 2020

One against the world.
Fighting your change.
Would anyone care if you made it?
Wouldn’t they rather you fail?
Oh, they’d feel better about themselves.

One against yourself.
Fighting His change.
Would you care to let go?
Who are you even working for?
Your progress has to be between you and God.

One against your past.
Fighting your change.
Would it make a difference,
If you turned the boat around?
Could you even find your way back?

One against emotions.
Fighting their change.
Doesn’t the anger feel good,
When it wrecks your life?
Don’t you think you should hate hate?

One against a soul.
Fighting the change.
They need you, you know.
You aren’t what you’re meant to be,
It’s about time you changed course.

You’re almost ready,
So I’ll give you more time,
But I can’t promise it’ll last forever…
Rickey Spence Jan 2020

Waiting for this is like watching someone,
Who’s struggling to lift heavy objects.
Knowing there’s work to be done.
But I’m defiant, as when a mob objects.

I see exactly what I dislike in me,
I guess, maybe I could toss it out.
Motivation comes so slowly,
But small steps are how you start.

So I’ll show you who I am,
But I’ll keep the darkest inside.
I’ll hold it back like the Hoover Dam.
Oh, how long can I go on looking dignified?

I’m in the middle of a drought,
In denial, I hold onto every drop.
Yet I haven’t figured it out,
That emotions aren’t meant to stop.

So I’ll give myself a chance,
I’ll give kindness a try.
I’ll surrender like France,
I’ll give into love and comply.

What is my own goodness?
But like a pile of wet leaves,
Or worshipping a false goddess,
Fruitless, like unsuccessful thieves.

Who am I? Who do I want to be?
I know who I was; I’m glad it’s in the past.
Yet these pains, I’ve gotten nowhere, you see?
Just when I thought I’d see the end at last.

When will I stop talking,
And move into danger’s range?
When will I stop writing,
And begin this wretched change?
Rickey Spence Jan 2020

Why do I shrug off their compliments?
I hate words of affirmation,
I don’t know how to react or what to say,
But they’re exactly what I need.

Without praise, I’d feel worthless,
But positive public attention is almost worse.
I feel puffed up or manipulated.
But is humility shooting down an applauding crowd?

“Shut up and say thank you,” they tell me.
That’s how to master humility.
So I’ll take what I can get,
And I’ll work at giving it in return.

I have so much love inside,
That I’m afraid to show.
But blasting out compliments,
Is hardly the wrong way to go.
Rickey Spence Sep 2019

Somehow I had it figured out that
If I made it as miserable for you
As it was for me
That then I would have happiness

I stepped into the scene
Chaos in the air as
I prepared to do the deed
Metaphorically raising the axe

But then I looked into your eyes
And saw a piece of myself
How could I let that happen
To another scared soul like me?

Jealousy runs love away from me
It’s hard to want the best for others
But if I knew what I wanted
Isn’t it also what they need?

Do unto others as you
Would have them do unto you
Why does that sound so easy?
Because all I want is a friend

Truth is, I’ve learned so much
But I learned the hardest way possible
I’d rather keep it all to myself
And watch you struggle like I did

Though it makes me feel better
It can only last so long
And it always ends with everyone
Hating me as if I had swung that axe.
Rickey Spence Sep 2019

God, you put me through a refining fire,
Where I stood, you desired to enquire.
After burning away the junk and ****,
One ***** drop was all I could brag.

Oh God, it’s easier to trust you when
You pour out blessings again and again!
But what about the times I wish to forget?
How can I trust you when I’d rather reset?

When everything is out of my hands,
When I’m caving under the demands,
That’s when I need you most, Lord.
I guess I call out only when I’m floored…

Yet even when I don’t trust like I should,
Oh God, You are still forever good!
I’ve felt your Spirit now more than ever,
Prying my thoughts apart like a lever.
Rickey Spence Jun 2019

I committed no crime,
So why then do I run?
Maybe I’ve run out of time,
And I can’t stand to be outdone.

As I run, I leave clues,
To divert anyone who stalks.
Random things like clews,
I’ve changed basic characteristics.

Maybe I’m bad at leaving ’em, unless
The detectives are bad at reading.
But they find me nonetheless,
As I try to explain this misunderstanding.

I argue my case – innocence,
They are not convinced.
I plead guilty – acquiescence,
They pick up on the nuanced.

Why is everything backwards?
No one understands me.
Headache and confusion afterwards,
With me no one seems to agree.

But then the detective joins me,
They don’t turn me in.
I can’t grasp it, should I flee?
My emotional reserve, dried like a raisin.
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Rickey Spence May 2019

God, stop me at once!
I've been telling you what to do,
And there's no telling what that will do.
I lack so much in experience.

I'm so demanding,
And yet so indigent,
I order things like I'm a sergeant.
But I'm the opposite of outstanding.

I want you to work for this "god of self,"
But you're more than I could ever think.
I live and die in one blink,
I can't escape - overtaken by time's engulf.

So why do I try to be,
The boss of all of you?
I master nothing of value,
I'm just riding along in this derby.

Oh God, humble my prayers.
I've always known what I wanted,
Boldly I asked of you - undaunted.
But here is one of the answers.

I ask, and ask, and ask!
But I never listen.
Now the light bulb is on like Edison.
My pride exposed - is grotesque.

You speak in a quiet voice,
Not because you're weak,
But because we must seek.
I've gotta come to you by choice.
Rickey Spence May 2019

That smile you showed,
When he was left out.
Half a second, eased the load,
Brought him from his hideout.

You care for him, to the last,
Even when he's distant.
When he thought he was outcast,
You included him in an instant.

But he selfishly wants your attention,
He craves more, he can't be alone.
He'd do anything in this situation,
But his stupidity swirls like a cyclone.

He becomes like a turbulent child,
Throws a fit to get his way.
Others are easily beguiled,
But is happiness really underway?

Can the void in his heart,
Which was drained long ago,
Be filled when he becomes a bogart?
These actions damage his precarious ego.

He needs your presence;
People who truly care,
Enough to make a difference.
But he can't even tell you're there.

"Father, show him who,
You've sent them into his life,
Even though they're few,
They cut him deep like a knife.

"Let them show him his faults,
He must see for himself,
Let them open the vaults,
Show him what's on the shelf."

You see how he is corrupted.
Despite his rotten core,
Could he be accepted?
You must help him to explore.

It's not what he does,
That determines his fame.
Love sees past broken pieces,
It passes on no shame.

Overcome by greed,
Not a healthy place.
Back-stabbed and buried,
Not a way to run the race.

Overcome by pride,
Not a purposeful existence.
So much left untried,
Not gaining any distance.

He was not satisfied,
So he took a mile.
I know he was terrified,
Cuz I was he - the whole while.
To all those who take the time to show me some attention: I'm sorry for all the dumb stuff I do to try to earn it. Thank you for loving me through my shortcomings.
Rickey Spence Apr 2019

I’m too skinny to be mean,
So why do I walk with swag?
That’s not maturity, I’m so green.
They say, “Work out, you’re such a scrag.”

I should try to smile more,
A scowl doesn’t draw people.
But the outside reflects from the core,
So change is not that simple.

Jesus change my heart,
Fill me – no, overflow me!
I need all of you to start,
To erase this mood of gloomy.

I’d rather be a nice guy,
I wouldn’t have to worry.
My old image – it’s time to die.
My turn to forget my history.

I’m still worried about my image,
I thought I climbed over that!
This culture values the savage.
In Your face, they’ve spat.

I’d rather be a decent fellow,
Someone readily trusted.
I’m quiet, I don’t bellow,
This way I was made, but I’ve resisted.

I was raised to be a gentleman,
What does that mean?
Call me a madman,
Act like Christ, when not even seen.

I’m done with looking tough,
I want nothing to do with grim.
I’ll act in a way devoid of mischief,
Even if I look like a weak victim.

But going back to culture;
I don’t want to slip into the throng,
I won’t blend in and become a vulture,
Feeding off the weak, don’t make you strong.

“Speak softly and carry a big stick,”
An interesting concept.
People these days are all talk,
That they are wrong, they’d never accept.

Even when I’m hated,
By Christ, I will show humility.
It’s not that complicated,
An extension of His credibility.
Rickey Spence Apr 2019

When I feel like hanging out,
Everyone is out and about.
But when I need to get away,
They all seem to want to stay.

God bless my introversion,
Because the other way is confusion.
I dislike the way I am,
Don’t compare me to a clam!

You’ve got me wrong,
Though at times I look strong;
Inside, I’m contorted into a wince,
Praying constantly for more competence.

At the end of a long day of stress,
I sit and mull it over – attempt progress.
I wonder why I am so put-down,
Feels like I’m on the edge of breakdown.

Then I think of the days previous,
Everything becomes obvious.
I need breaks from people,
That’s always been the principle.

In the moment, it’s easy to slip up,
And think I can do this ’til sunup.
But I am weak when it all comes,
I quickly forget my problems.

I have unlimited limitations,
It’s hard to turn down invitations.
People can’t expect much from me,
But I can’t just blame my anatomy.

It seems a daily and vicious cycle
Splurge and crash, it’s becoming critical.
Balance doesn’t seem practical,
Why am I so hypocritical?
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