Young, talented and black,
Those were the words from mama,
As she held my arm,
She saw the future,
Something I couldn't see,
Now 22 years into the picture,
Everything is clear from my eye,
Grasp of the vision my birth prophesied,
I'm scrambling for the masterpiece,
My mama preached,
Put me on this path;
It feels like redemption,
Second chances,
Othertimes it feels like I'm jumping fences,
Over the other side, the grass is greener,
Fate is meaner,
I can't complain, it kept me clear,
From the suicide thoughts I dreamt,
Life was horror,
I saw red and terror,
My heart was skipping beats.
That was my hell,
Now it's clearer, it's something bigger,
In the universe.
With the infinity I converse,
Trying to understand,
The picture,
Everyday is a new day,
I understand little by little,
With these words I say,
It's a feeling beyond matter,
Beyond the physical and what matter,
It's something new,
I hope to paint before my last breath in a few,
Moments and moments,
Ring me the alarm,
Wake me up from my thoughts.
YOU ARE READING
THE WILLOW TREE
PoetryIt's a struggle for my sanity through a moment of rage and out of space, psychetry is my build as I layer my truths, it's a journey, the second trip
