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Seb Tha Guru Nov 2015
I've realized we are the same.
I've realized we are all different.
I've realized the man in the mirror.
I've realized Myself.
I've realized you.
I've realized love.
I've realized lust.
I've realized lies.
I've realized truth.
I've realized words are all I have.
I've realized hatred.
I've realized a girl.
I've realized feelings.
I've realized anger.
I've realized sadness.
I've realized heartbreak.
I've realized good and bad health.
I've realized you once loved me.
I've realized I still love you.
I've realized only the higher power can bring you to me.
I've realized I have to do what I gotta do.
I've realized my friends.
I've realized enemies.
I've realized care packages.
I've realized poison.
I've realized money.
I've realized being broke.
I've realized drugs and alcohol.
I realize a joke.
I've realized ***.
I've realized making love.
I've realized the stars.
I've realized the dirt.
I've realized I can keep going.
I've realized I don't know much.
I haven't realized what I am destined for.
I haven't realized I could have the Midas touch.
I haven't quite realized life.
I've realized it's not fair.
I've realized I always want necessarily  what I can't have.
I've realized everything will one day vanish into thin air.
Seb Tha Guru Nov 2015
That time was such a year full of excitement.
Sitting in English class writing poems and enlightenment.
Even though I was soft spoken I found myself as a teacher's pet.
After hearing these words you would think I need a vet.
Was the trending topic on every male student's mind wonder if the teacher figured that out yet.

I'd never been one to read my thoughts and writings out loud.
Until she pressured me one time to the class and after said she was proud.
As minor as it seemed, over timed it became major.
Now far as poetry writers and rappers in our graduation class I am called the savior.

Was so anxious to go to class, especially when that project was due.
Was my first piece of poetry work, classmates called me Guru.
The whole time, this teacher knew and said I was destined for success.
Now I have this profile and forming a group called TDS.

Why'd I feel like a teacher's pet?
Because in my head this teacher was my school mom.
Because of her you can type in my name following a dot com.
Even though she helped and was kind and loving to every other student,
I took her kindness, words, and light she shed on me and turning it into a movement.

Sat a couple seats down and smiled at me during graduation.
Every time you spoke to me about my writing you made me feel I could conquer my generation.
I never did much is class, except read what I've been writing every time you would ask.
Knowing to myself you could believe in me and encourage me as a teacher like no other.
Believe it or not, you re-birthed me in my writing form, you're my linguistic and poetry mother.

Sooner than later she left.
Rumors he and her family moved to France.
After a long while I decided to take in your words of consideration and give this a chance.

To make a long story short, you are truly adored and missed.
No longer a kid, I'm grown now, til this day you're appreciated so I had to display this.
  Nov 2015 Seb Tha Guru
Dead lover
Although all poets write well, only those becomes popular who learn to respect the work of others..
This is what my favorite teacher used to say.. " do you know what makes a person's work more important?
the ability of the work to adjust with the reader, and that adjustment is only possible when - you learn to respect the sentiments and style of how all express and that's the way you should write.. "

She died in a car mishap, 1 and half year... I posted this in her memory, because If we see - its not just about a writer and his readers, its about all, about everything in fact..
Seb Tha Guru Nov 2015
Immature to the gospel, because I only clap and stand when everyone else in church does.

Emotionless.
Are the evils of Lucci around me?
Or in me?
Perhaps I'm his disciple.

Premature and oblivious to the Lords word at times.
Is that why I often self destruct?
Trying to convince myself my sins are forgiven; it's too many for me to even understand or get a grasp on.

My words fall on def ears,
Loud mouths,
And only a few sincere hearts.

What's my purpose?
What's my calling?
My destiny.

Running until I can't anymore.
A voice of voices.
An atom of a huge and growing generation.
A sample and strand of the youth.
One of God's unthinkable number of loved and sin forgiven children.

— The End —