Master of Arts
The soul of mine, I cannot find!
I’m lost in the ocean, amongst crashing waves — I’m almost blind!
Mastering of Arts, I beg of you — let the fates be kind

I have been good, haven’t I?
I’ve fed my body well and kept my healthy veins —
... my mistake was that I hadn’t fed another
anything but grains —
But, I don’t understand? I too am a man!
with needs of my own, and I support a wealthy land!
I have wives that lay by me, I feed them well with my hand
Is that not enough for you master? Sight o’foreseeable! What comes of me now? too lay like a fish? I hope that comes by faster!

The waves ripple,
the water crashing by at my feet
I scatter away, frightened by the coming dribble
The sky was turning dark — an upcoming storm was to pass by, I had no shelter and nothing here to eat

My stomach growled, too loud of a sound
It had been awhile since it’d done that, I was always kept satisfied
Now, nothing’s here — not fishes nor ground
The sky roared, electrified
The storm was approaching too soon!
No blues, No light loomed
Overhead. Only the thundering boom.

Too much to bear! Too much too weigh!
Oh Master of Arts!
I’m sorry I hadn’t looked down the lanes!
I saw them too, Ah! They had been too frail and somber!
Starving all day!

Forgive me, Master! I won’t make another...
the seas are crashing courses with their waves,
Stronger each time, “I don’t have all day to be saved!”
But lightning struck, and I swore to keep my place in line
now isn’t the time to be a swine!

Selfishness is another seed to be taken, enough to make you blind
Master of Arts
I swear to you,
I’ll pay more mind
to the frail, aching bodies of the souls
in need
I have enough — I swear it! — to feed!

Master of Arts,
Let the fates be kind..
I swear I have changed, my mind, my acts, my scroll
Amidst all
I have realized
My role

high octane whippets
bring me closer to sin
lied about remorse
it’s hard to break
to cement my place in hell
thrones made within myself
mindful thoughts of decadence
barren lies the boy
filled with tar and hate
selfish ingrate
no longer a problem
his death left no mark
condescending little ****
stands here his grave

You know John Locke thought that it was human nature
     to do what is in our own best interest.

I don’t think he was right,
   but I think
          he was right
                   about you.

Time,
a valuable currency.
Mine,
seemingly yours to steal.

Robbed me of my riches
Poured my money down

the drain. Still you could not
Spend a penny
for my thoughts.

i wish i had known how to hold on
to good things while they lasted
and appreciate them for what they were

but alas, i am a coward
a selfish coward who never learned
that the weight of my words

was just as painful as the blow of a fist
and the spark in your eyes
were drowned out by the fires in my mind

my insecurities and paranoia
drove even the kindest away
this was why the good never stayed with me

                         shakespeare spoke the truth
                         the fault had never been in the stars
                         but in my own self

we kissed once in the backseat
of a dull yellow taxi with
love in our suitcases and mouths

then, another in the backstreets of brooklyn
as the boys hooted at us and whistled
hollering under their hoops

"****, y'all lookin' fine"
and we raised our middle fingers
like it was a salute to the gods

i know this is overused
it feels like just yesterday but
years have passed in a blink

perhaps i am just selfish
but i have yet to move on
i still cannot ride a taxi alone

hope sits silently and oh, how it watches
silently from the seat across from me
clinging to what is left of me