People say that I lost my mind right with the sensitivity of my words
Forgot the meaning to my name and the reasons that built the base of the foundation that sustains the weight of the hell that I bring
But I am still here,
I have never left
I released too much anger so now the only thing that is left is bitter sweet memories and a bad taste in their mouths.
I could give a sermon that is sure to remove the wigs off the ratchet
Cleanse the streets of the hood
And purge their ignorant mentality and reinsert knowledge upon knowledge of the worlds greatest
Take away that opioid and inject some truth into the veins of my brotha’s and sista’s
That are constantly being over looked as society continues to pretend that they do not exist
It’s so easy to forget how close they are to that bottom level…
I woke up to another empty day
Felt my stomach once again kissing my back as my arms and back burnt in the sun
There was no running a/c greeting me, or food in the kitchen waiting to be cooked
No hourly waiting to see me running though some double doors
Or water to use to wash the stresses away from this overworked body
All I had were regrets
The countdown had already started
I had already started making my way back into the earth
With every breath that I took, I was mentally preparing myself for my demise
Committing the type of mental suicide that even the man up above probably wouldn’t forgive me for
This battle that I knew that I could beat
That leverage that I knew that I had over those skeletons that I let fall from out of my closet
Released the right amount of pressure to allow the devil to poison my veins with everything that I had already overcame
Damn near sexed my way to an early grave
Put myself into my back pocket and played Russian roulette with my mental every chance that I got
Just so I could know how it felt to not give a damn anymore
Can nobody tell my story…better than me.
Preach to me about the commitment that I made before the eyes of the congregation
Speak the words of men who wrote out the words and phrases that helped deprive me of my own individuality as I sat in a pulepit for years reciting hymns to a unknown power that I felt no connection to until I started walking my own spiritual path
Can no man who bleeds like I bleed and hurt like I hurt tell me that they can bring me down any further than where I have already been