You’re a lethal dose of creativity,
Ull never be Einstein,you’re more!
Desparate highs, oozing radioactivity,
My face well lighter ,than my hair
Yet they all still make my body one
The sky’s blue,the soil’s brown
Earth will always be earth?
So why ,judge me for my skin color
When we have the same blood running through veins
The beauty of a fractal
Lies in its many uncoordinated Patterns
I won’t stop, nope I won’t .
Not till I don’t have to wear a hood to write poetry
Not until I don’t have to have an English name to publish my thoughts
Not till; The rebellion of my generation
A refined perception of youth
Is given, a chance to live beneath the strangles of acclaimed adulthood
(I won’t bury that kid, who’s gonna change the world, cus you feel its mature!)
Nope I won’t stop, till you all realize ,I’m typing in black on a freaking white background!
I don’t have to be colored ,to your satisfaction to change the world?
My color is what makes me human
Doesn’t it make you human to?
Because you love my resilience,
Love won’t take, it’ll give
Actually its what we’re made for,
Cus you know,the future hangs in silence,
Knowing all this be black, be bold!
Title: appreciate the commute.
Sometimes, the journey is more important than the destination.
Its not about your destination,but destiny’s notion.
We adore perfection, yet ignore the imperfection that created it,
Most times I’m lost in between, nights of my own self made insomnia,where the night smells of the beauty of ink and my fingers well strained from typing or writing,
But take a look at the stars,
I remember in high school, I had a sister who would lay on the fields late at night with me and talk about stars and how my dreams, were beyond them.
She would kiss me and say, forget the stars; its the little distance between here and those stars ,that contain the recipe of my success, she would rap this sometimes.
How often do you unconsciously make someone happy, yet you didn’t do anything but pay attention to something so small every other person ignored.
Sometimes we need to recreate the term success; I’m wearied eyed most nights, but in those hours where we all slide to our shells I redefine the term a night owl, to a knight eagle. We should all do the same, because we were made to.
Someday I believe, the people of the future will look through, these texts and writings and wish they could have a conversation with the author, but more than anything else they would ,wish the were part of this beautiful generation that created my type.
Appreciate you ; Appreciate the commute.