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Yenson Apr 13
How I've gotten under their skin
They've never seen one like that
This is their nightmare
the stuff of wonder
Didn't imagine
they come
like this
one
Head and shoulders above all
impeachable and razor sharp
In no way like the rest
a true Prince, alright
drives them gaga
a nightmare
quality
the
real
deal
A thorn in their pale flesh
cheap weak we all know
liars, playing masters
He's a threat to them
they can't rest now
have to degrade
have to destroy
a prime black
not bowing
is enemy
number
one
Real Leaders do not stoop low
real leaders are always fair
real people don't steal and lie
real people are dignified
real people are intelligent
real people are benevolent
real people are not racists
real people are not cowards
real people do not feel threatened
by successful and decent black people
real people do not try discrediting others
Only racist ignorant idiots and their KKK masters
devout time and energy to pulling black people down

https://youtu.be/NSrP6Sr-OW4
https://youtu.be/qSbsuitLLs0
Gabriel burnS Oct 2017
Too good and yet true
Too beautiful
To taste
Without falling in daze
Without following
Delirious
An aroma trail of craving
On the back of my tongue
I’m getting equal measures
Of heaven and hell
Perfectly balanced

My eyes are my traitors
Plotting to open the gates
Sending stowaway warriors
Whom I never gave orders
To slip behind walls
Of thickest black pupils
In the Trojan horse
That my eager look is

And gazes are bridges
Unwillingly
Supporting the siege
Of epiphanies
You and me
Caught in our ambush
Completely surrounded by Us
Gabriel burnS Dec 2016
too long your lips have stared
into the body of my thoughts,
studying the patterns
and the features,
deciphering the blueprints,
my irrational being

...those petals,
their textures burning in the color,
popping out like embers, fed
every regulated breath

you are compelled
to lick away the dryness,
wipe the prints and traces,
put out the flames covertly...
but make it look casual:
you cannot be caught spying;
or the government of words
denies everything,
severing the strings,
abandoning its secret desire
behind enemy lines,
to be captured, questioned,
and tortured
by your very own
collaborationist conscience
Mercury Chap Jan 2015
If music is love expressed
Then I'm nothing,
But an untuned guitar,
Which gets tuned for a while,
And then the beats
Turn the keys,
Back to where they were.

The whispering music,
Goes on for a while,
Soothing my messed up mind,
Stretching my frown into a smile.

The waves of emotion,
Dance in air
And the major chord,
Dominates the despair,
Ensconced deep in our hearts,
Invisible ,
And with the songs, rare.

But then the fingers
Slip to a minor,
And the pain it lingers
All around our sober heads
The trance slowly slips away, 
As the song goes off tune,
And our hands that once together swayed
Are now still and apart.

If music is love expressed
Then my song has already ended,
Even before it started,
But then that day
Isn't so far away,
Even though the journey to reach it is long,
When in the gamut of covert tunes
I'll find my perfect song.
I'll find my perfect song.

— The End —