They’re asking for comparisons
But a father can’t compare his sons
And they’ll call until the morning sun
But he’ll protect every one of them

Like a building stands on tens of tons
Not on one brick but the sum of them
As an artist’s craft is never done
Discarding not a single one

The works build up the firm foundation
A mental shelter, found salvation
Rich and poor, they form a nation
A state of mind, the mind’s creation

So when they ask “will you stop your run?”
I’ll let them know I’ve just begun
Cause they’re asking for comparisons
But a father won’t compare his sons

I see you. The real you.
And I think it’s brave and beautiful the way you love despite all the ways life tried to destroy you

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

to me,
you are
an art

                              to you,
                              I was
                              a tragedy

Everything is for a reason,
Mostly, for a stupid one.

you get one day to cry
but tomorrow
it’s time to fix your crown