color my mood with steel resolve;
even as I collide with walls
in this maze called life.
Compass in my backpack, buried under
other’s opinions and expectations;
unchecked ego and toxic relations--
lost under years of saving face, before saving ass
and pseudo orgasms from mental masturbation.
A master at imagery
painting the perfect picture for you to see,
‘till I became the type to believe my own hype
and my dark secrets became secret to only me.
Blue white city lights at night have a way of exposing you;
the streets are hungry for tragedy, and irony,
like greeting my brother with "peace"
with poison in my pocket, to distribute to my community,
or luring ladies to my lair
to awaken in empty beds,despite their nakedness next to me,
or poison in my pocket becoming MY means
to deal with society--
script flipped from me doin’ the city
to the city doin’ me.
……Then God smiled on me--
humbling me by feeding me my own existence;
navigating misdirected persistence--
shredding my blood stained canvas
forcing me to start anew--
filling my palate with the colors of water and wind--
placing in my bed pure love--
pulling an Angel from her womb;
Intoxicated no more, except by God and his blessings
and his pardon of my transgressions.
Nowlue white city lights inspire me
The only opinion that matters
is his ........ of me
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