now you know
i am not what you thought i'd be
what more did you expect?
i can now be all the forbidden colors
but still a child, a wanderer
nothing else
once you find the tunnel
you will find the way out
and once you start down this path
you will not stop running
it's not easy, being you
sometimes you have to lie
to find the truth
in the bubble of life
you're too afraid to pop
will you grow so large
until it can no longer hold you?
or will you let it suffocate you?
will you go on and rot?

Trying to create a melody;
Like a path where I can follow
Do Re Mi ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Let the music flow

Sometimes, you just have to let it go
Because it's just another day
A day to learn and grow
And when there's no other way

the lines on my notebook pages scoff
as they see me writing your name once again


©L.F.

Unity
Why does it mean so much?
Why does it matter that it should be amongst us, between friends, in families, our congregation, neighborhood communities
Let's think about the word unity again
The first three letters stop look closely
U. N. I
You and I
It's Ironic how that works
We can't go anywhere with our relationship with the people we love without this next statement in mind
Humans creation was designed to be a continuous population and togetherness Yet we always find a way to remain separated. Is it possible you could look deep in your heart and soul and find you need me just as much as I need you.
The topic of unity isn't just one underlying issue. It involves communication
When you're happy and feel you have to celebrate, send me a text
Call when you're sad because I know you battle with being depressed
Tell me about your fears no I can't take them away I'm not Jehovah but understand I'm here. Or even when we have a disagreement
How am I supposed to know your upset
It's not supernatural
I don't speak telepathical
I feel like khalid. Can you just talk to me?
Tell me how your feeling voice your opinions that's what's wrong with society. You know why because the lack unity
Patience is also key but that's another song for a different time. We're towards the end **** before I go this is what you should know
Coming together is a begining
Keeping together is progress, working together is success
Without unity there can be no strength

There are things they don’t tell you about getting older,
how one day you will realize
that the home you grew up in
no longer feels like home
and you’ll be yearning for somewhere else
even as you are sleeping in the bed
that you slept in as a teen,
these changes come slowly,
but hit you all at once.
They do not tell you
that you will look the same
as you did last year
and last week
but you will feel like the world
shifted a few inches overnight
not telling you that it was going to do so,
but leaving you to pick up the pieces
of the memories it left as it moved,
you will grow to understand
that some things will never make sense
no matter how much you shake your fist at God
and cry into your mother's shoulder,
they do not tell you that you will not always be able
to cry into your mother's shoulder
or call your dad when your car breaks down
or feel comfortable in the places
that used to make your eyelids relax
into peaceful sleep,
they are too busy learning these things themselves
that they forget to tell you the things
you wish you knew
before it was too late.

Maybe our past version
could never make it work.
Maybe they weren't meant to be.
They knew to little
and felt too much.

But now that we've picked up
our broken pieces
and rebuilt ourselves.

Reconnected with ourselves.
Changed, grown
and matured.

I wonder if it is meant to
be between these two
evolved souls.

So maybe, we are glow sticks,
that need to break to glow.

So maybe, we are caterpillars
who digest themselves during metamorphosis,
to transform into a butterfly.

So maybe, we are stars
that need to collapse
in order to shine brightly.

So maybe, we need to breakdown,
to pick up the pieces and cast ourselves
as someone different.

So maybe, we need to shed
to become a better version.

So maybe, all this
crumbling
breaking
collapsing
was never a destruction
but a birth to something beautiful.

At times they were just plain words on paper
and at times they were expressive and powerful poetry.
At times it was paint spilled all over
and at times it was a masterpiece.
At times it was a stress
and at times it was a relief.

I guess
progress was never meant to be linear.
It was never meant to be all flow
without ebb.
It was never supposed to be all great and good,
but neither were these times supposed to have the power
to bring you down to give up,
because you feel it will never be good enough.