Never Lose Sight

Lost

I lost the hunger but still have the love.

Split between the two.

Who I was and who I am.

Trying to find a common, that area filled with caution.

Is that trauma or am I just hiding ?

Hiding from the fact I can’t reach certain heights.

Is this lack of preparation or perspective ?

Im destined but my story is still being written.

I can choose any path but I don’t have no sense of direction.

I am lost.



The Stars

I look to the star, they don’t shine the same.

I want be a star but the spark is not the same.

Passionate to passionless.

Losing sight of who I am.

Only seeing the scars.

Feeling what I lost.

This pain is not for sport.

Fatherless

You set the stage then vacated but your shadow still eclipses me.

Your path or mine, them lines are blurred.

I want to walk in your footsteps but who am I personally?

I took my mind from my body and thought how come we never spoke but I’m always talking to you.

I don't cry but its like I'm always shedding tears for you.

I started balling so we can be closer.

Looking to stands but every time, your seat empty.

Deep down, I'm empty. 

Suppose to be here but shots rang out.

Your bloody body, dropping, replaying like it’s the gamer winner.

Another black fatherless child.

It’s endless.

Senseless.

They asking why I’m so distant.

You was put in hearse before I learned how to mourn.

I’m still so torn.

Who Am I ?

Poisoned by the bonds that ties.

Your inner self is so shy.

Hiding behind a culture’s eyes.

If you don’t follow the dotted lines, you get the evil eye.

You conform cause your faults are magnified.

Tired of hearing your own cries, you find a mask to disguise.

Your identity losing supply.

Who I am?

I’m here to showcase my writing I hope you enjoy

yo. tell me about where you from. if you don't mind

I’m from New York

Midnight

At night is when the darkness come to flirt.

It’s jealous of your joy.

It hopes to destroy with no remorse.

In torch your thoughts.

Exposing your faults.

Depleting your source.

Your endorphins running thin.

Walls closing in.

These mental wars has no end.

Want to scream for help but no one understand.

Nor do they care to give a damn.

This pain is in command.

Now you’re sitting in a pool of your own sweat.

Living through all your regrets.

Within yourself you digress.

Your stress take center stage.

Putting on a show for the ages.

Taking a bow for your devastation.

Purest

Your the purest skin but treated like the latter.

And black man we scattered.

My perception of us has shattered.

We suppose to be kings who uplift our queens but lately we been leading them to disaster.

And all I hear is laughter.

Jokes and games like we all wasn’t in chains.

We should be put to shame but we can never see the errors in ways.

We’re men, this how we’re train.

We received praise for what slay.

Never taught restraint.

How to deal with pain.

This is probably why we reciprocate in harsh ways.

Projecting it on our beautiful reflections.

Choosing lighter complexion cause they don’t call us out on our lack of direction.

I will never understand this disconnection.

I will never get the lack rage.

This boil the blood in my veins.

How we allow them to stand alone through all their agony and pain.

Down play all their accolades cause we hate to see them be great.

Hate see them achieve more than what we can equate.

What we bring to plate would deflate any mate who choose to engage.

Instead of upgrade we display hate to heal our ego that’s already in fragile state.

Then when we flip the tape and blame it on their traits.

The way we manipulate, irritates.

It’s time for a change of pace.

Endless Cycle

You hurt me and I hurt the next.

It’s how the game goes.

It flows with no remorse.

Leaving hearts in parts.

All out of sorts.

Love is an art but pierced in the process.

Everyone moving on without healing from the ex, hurting everybody next.

It’s an endless cycle; different variables.

Black Man

I’m black but also human.

I’m a man but I also have emotions.

Can’t show no fear but I’m freighted.

A bullet can come my way, from a cop or op that looks just like me.

Deep down, I struggle with that notion.

I want to see everyone grow.

Be the best that they can be but we fight these burdens of everyday life.

It’s layered on top of us.

Layers that prevents us from seeing our true self.

They say we’re hiding but we’re buried.

Suffocating, gasping for air but no one hears.

Or do they even care cause we’re men that are black and the odds are always stacked.