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Trevon Brown Jan 2016
Can't you see the slashes on his chest
I know you can see where the blade cut him so deep that it's left him on one knee nothing left inside
tears rolling down his cheek
But they roll slow like the Ganges flows
and likewise he's  in need of a cleanse so his safe can be closed and  shall never open it for another dose of this emotional poison that has his mind body and soul controlled , what makes her think she has the right to be so bold?
Middle of the night ,sweats cold because of thoughts of future decades of being alone That passion for care is no longer inside as life is set to auto pilot gliding his way into this inevitable demise and let the crows pick out his eyes sounds like an ideal way to die , as long as he doesn't  have to love again , never have I seen a life where the husband can win because she loves to mess around and he's mommy to his two kids, and the whole world knows that daddy can never win
The undercover truth behind the words "I do"  When their vows just became a slur of meaningless words and she couldn't remember the first time they laid eyes on each other  how they groom themselves together in this awkward silence So he packs his things ever so neatly into his Benz  
he sees the screams and begs and pleas for him not to leave through his lens , but by any means necessary , he never wants to love again.
Trevon Brown Jan 2016
Past the thresh hold
You would never believe the terrors in the walls of the institution
The terrors of exclusion, and confusion in a potion
My priorities in a gyre I lost all of my devotion
I believed that I was different
I believed that I was the drop of rain that could possibly make the change
But I was met with scrutiny and a plethora  of pain
Listen while the wheels helplessly turn in the craniums of future corporate superheroes pertaining to our kryptonite
This  five day failure
Instructors blow the flame on the inside that burns and leaves us filled with fumes of smoke no longer lusting for learning
Day by day enduring test that will contribute to our eternal rest
Students will be able to hope and pray that they are blessed
With a sprinkle of common sense
And commandeer these bombs that blow up in the faces of billionaire bobs who believe that blacks can't do better than
A 9 to 5 and 4 kids
Because we mask our heritage with true religion and Tuscan leather
And when confronted by our elders we shrug it off with profanity when translated just means whatever
But I'm the distinction between great greater and best
I am the thinker that thought what would happen if I use that ***** that resides in my chest
I will shake this world for better and I won't accept anything less
Past the Threshold
of the school doors

— The End —