Welcome to the dawn of a new age
Open up the book turn the page
Excel to a higher degree
Understand the evolution of humanity
Back on track showing I don't lack
Doing what I do to make you react
Lets take a trip through my mind
A poetic M.A.N is what you find
Who has the answers?
Let's ask the questions
It is as if no one is even paying attention
To money which was created by man
It separates people
Are you starting to understand?
It's a trap set by death it wont stop
Till we breath our last breath
Hmm that's right!!
Not even death is free
"Money" is the maker of poverty
Overpopulation, segregation a messed up nation
Puts us on a path of mass annihilation
Wartime, see the battles rage on
Is it hatred
Or a politicians song?
Time and space
The final frontiers
Bombs explode people run in fear
Cultures wiped out to the future they are unknown
Aliens from space invade our home
Pledge allegiance to a flag
Whatever may wave which ever they have
Science is it fiction or fact?
Sometimes it is hard to believe all that
Who will do it?
Who will find the answers?
Prophets fall but not from cancer
GOD? Thee almighty one
Spoke to us on earth through his son
Whether you agree or disagree
The intention was to save humanity
Who will stand up?
Who will be the one?
To bring about change without firing a gun?
Every generation builds off the back of the last
Truths ignored dooms us to repeat our past..

Feet firm on earth,
still chasing dreams
in a world now his own.

Sweat spills from strong pores,
forging currents of futures
he now shapes.

Tight embraces,
arms steady and sure,
a father’s pride made strong.

Wood and leather,
worked to tough threads—
faith stitched into his resolve.

Grass stains on knees,
still bending the world
to his will,
moved by purpose.

Anthems of hope
rise in his voice,
lifting his father’s soul
to love’s high planes.

The quiet secrets
of love and compassion,
once hidden by modesty,
are now lived out loud.

He follows his path
through shifting fields,
where once slick frogs slipped
through eager hands—

A world he builds,
a world he claims,
a world his father
now trusts to his hands.

Every splash of ink,
Every drag of this pen.

Is another gift in the face of common man,
An honor that is art to the human soul.

For if not for this music,
Spirits would grow old, crumbling in the cold.

A man without a purpose,
perceives himself as a failure,
even in the gaze of those who don't see him.

His thoughts spiral, envisioning the
hope of light at the end of the tunnel,
only as a receding spark, like a distant star,
as he plunges deeper into a hole.

These are his thoughts when he’s alone –
this is NOT a poem!

she was the type of woman
that would float him
to conversations with angels
in one delicious word

and he, well...he was the type of man
that would sensually massage
her strawberry lips
with his thumb and index
to an absolute silence

so that he would not elevate
with her candy filled words
above her pedestal of worship

I’ll discuss
The disgust I feel
When I see
Your ugly mug

When he tells me he can't get me a valentine till later,
its so bittersweet.
I love him for telling me so i'm not put down,
and I love how he thinks for me.
But it reminds me of every time i've gotten my birthday forgotten,
any holiday surrounding me,
forgotten,
and those words,
"i'll get you something later, i promise."
coming out of a desperate mans mouth.
It's not that i crave a gift
i really don't, i really don't care.
but how am i supposed to have trust in something that has been broken so many times?
how am i supposed to have trust when i've been pushed aside as a later thought?

And how will i feel when you leave in three months
Perhaps to another town, state, country even
I wouldn’t know
We never talk

Its sad that ive wasted the last two years
Right next to you
But blind

Its sad that it was only a couple weeks ago
When i first saw
When i saw you walk down the hall
And thought to myself
Oh my

And its sad that i will go my whole life without ever talking to you
Without ever getting to know
Whats behind that guarded smile
Or that instagram profile

Perhaps we’ll meet a decade from now
You will see me
And you will think to yourself
Oh my

And i will finally get to know
You

Akin to a tree with no shade,
A branch with no fruit ,
It stands tall with no weight ,
A husk with no shade .
Promised the men,
"The tree to provide shade,
To those who eat the fruit" .
With only fruits to be imaginary,
Men stand staring ,
Into the empty husk .

If a dove to approach ,
If a dove to question ,the 'fruits',
“The dove to be lit up " ,said the men,
“It harms the tree “, said the men,
" The Luscious tree cannot be fathomed,
As it not be questioned by simple minds " ,said the men.

The simple minded crow,
To pray for its shade .
For no seem found ,For men still stares.
Stares he at the fallen branches ,
Of a tree with no fruits.