Get up.
Go to school
It's okay if your too tired
To speak
To think
School is important
Memorize this
Keep your mind occupied
Keep you're thoughts
At bay.
Never stray from the
Normality
Fear your peers
And never disrespect
Your elders,
They're always right
Always teaching us
The way they think
That we should see.
Biased opinions
Dull minds
Robots training the young
Homework
Essays
Projects
Keep your mind busy,
Your eyes tired,
Your heart empty.
Get rid of your hopes
And dreams
Because if you don't get
Straight As
Take AP
and honors classes
Be in every sport and club
You're a failure
In every way
Shape
And form.
Because we are the youth
Of this nation
And this nation
Can't be challenged
By creative minds,
The system is too frail
A stroke of a paintbrush
A tick of a harp
Or a string of creative thoughts
Can bring the whole thing down.
So sit still
Take your notes
Follow direction
Your health doesn't matter
And neither do you, your just part of the system
And the system
Owns you.

Binary emotion,
On or off,
Smile or frown,
Love or hate,
One or the other,
No in between,
A painted mask,
To hide my eyes,
That run a system check,
On every face in range,
Good or bad?
Trustworthy or liar?
Decided immediately,
By a single glance,

But only outside cyberspace,

For on connection,
The server responds,
My mask fragments,
I release the inner-workings of my soul,
To so many,
And my fake smile,
Finds new truth,
In words flickering on a screen,
My feelings reconfigure,
And my default gateway,
Becomes conversation,
Not a cold shoulder,
Reboot.

Each stone laid
Separate but together
Layers and layers
Of constructed existence
The rain seeps through
The slippery spaces of divide
Touching every surface
Recognizing its existence
In case they themselves forgot
What it means to suffer
And the division between
The top and the accumulation
Of rainwater on the bottom

If I had to explain it I'd say my world of words prefers to rhyme.
It likes to speed up, until you catch up,
and then take up your time.
It likes to play games and roll around in the grass like a child;
use its imagination to keep things fresh, tasty, and wild.
My words like to cuss and be rude,
spend days lying on the couch
drunk, shameless, and ****.
They dispise being alphabetized and disrespect being ordered around;
like a high school kid being sensitized,
and in so doing being ostracized,
being pushed out forcefully by the system.
My words have rules and they love to resist them.
Often turning into words of insistence and criticism,
my words should be locked up,
but they're usually dressed up
in something they're not,
put in a strait jacket and forgotten in a prison because they've been caught.
People think I need to watch what I say but I'd rather not.
I want my words to stay in your head for days till they're the only thoughts
you've got.

What does black history month mean to me,

Slavery and freedom,

A race fighting for equality,

The rusted chains and blood stained whips,

Over 400 years of this abominable cycle,

Love thy neighbor the words silenced in the bible,

I have a dream,

The dream that came true,

But only through the spilt blood of the innocent,

Their families left singing the blues,

Black history month is a month of the forgotten truth,

How one man's greed became a nation's nightmare,

And how we as humans must dream of freedom and equality too.

He gave me an entire solar system
when all I asked for was a star.

All he gave me was a star
when I needed an entire solar system.

It's early morning
And the maid hasn't even arrived yet
Your morning breath
And my tired eyes staring back
At your final seconds of sleep
We get up, speechlessly
I start to make my morning tea
And you pour sugar in it for me
It tastes like the colour of your skin
I don't even shiver anymore
You're the heat inside my lungs
And the golden tones of my rising suns
The touch of your voice in my ears
Makes me feel like I'm melting fears
And I have never felt so safe
By looking into one's eyes and say:
"You're my entire solar system"