Ever hear of the story of a young boy age 16 with big dreams for his life?
All it would take is a different scene for his life to start and begin starting with a pen, paper in his hand, words flowing from his lips.
Where does this story even begin for a MC turned to poet.
Slow it’s, a start, “When I became a Man” by Phil Allen.
Preceding, “He is here”, by Amena Brown, passionate poetess.
It’s the first time, this boy, now turned young man, not in years’ time, but older in the moment.
His influential tells him, ”Man, this is for you. Pick up a pen and start flowing.”
“Oh, man!” he thinks, “can this really be for me? I cant do what they did in those videos! It’s not really for me.”
Over the phone, conversation, he was placed into a performance with no type of experience.
“Son, write something about this topic, because tonight, on the stage I’m throwing you on it.”
Scared out of his mind, the moment can be describe as you being placed in the lions dens. No Shamrock, more like you better fear ought.
Over time, he puts off the thoughts urging him to slam his thoughts to the white, blue lined ground, make it resonate and make a sound.
He let this become his thoughts haven; slowing becoming a place he delights. He returns to it, shaping it every single time.
From his youth, he was encouraged by the saying coach once said, “Practice make perfect, you can’t sit on the bench, and laziness gets you nothing’.
Grandpa tells his children “go get it if it’s in front of you. Don’t ever let anything stop you from making the best of you.”
So he takes time and sets it apart from his day. He gets in front of the mirror and practices everything he wrote and…
Unlike the first time in front of everyone else, he bombs badly, and gets discourage from saying anything else for a long time.
This story goes long, even into his own home. Family daily arguing. Mom having problems with their stepdad and siblings getting on his dome, anything can make him fear that, peace in my home will never exist.
He uses that to fuel the passion for his next creation. Working hard at it, all he only gets is 4 sentences.
His siblings, they deny him, exclude him out the group. “We can’t be around, because there’s something different that we don’t like about you.”
Pulling up his chair, he sits and he thinks, studying and reading more.
He tries to study to understand the picture written in the lines, he’s learning how to see.
Words popping off the page, glowing image colored yellow, unexplainable experience that surely would settle--
His writing! Something in it this time made it different.
Was it the Humblest of Many Beasts, representing the name of an controversial image that did it?
In dialog he heard, “just give me four minute. I’ll describe some good news that goes beyond the time frame after I’m done and finished.”
Oh did it! This is a whole alternate beginin’.
18 years old, Glory had a different meaning in his opinion.
“Its not about me, 20 track Mixtape, MCing’ once again, instrumentals he flowed with it.
Never again did he try and compromise with doubt, making a deal with procrastination, settling for discouragement and no more relationship neither. This is because Hope did it.
From the start to the finish, this is still a story untold about a young man, with a plan to change the world with words injected with Love, Peace, Life and hope in it.
20 years, this story doesn’t finish, still doesn’t end even when the ink is soaking in to the paper in his idleness sitting at a table, thinking about where the next picture painting begins, waiting for his thought to open.
Picasso, he’s been told, except with a pen, “when you first wrote, imagine how far it will go from the star to the final end?”
He realizes within himself, he has a new found confidence, it encourages him to do all things.
He doesn’t stop until he’s finsihed.
Take my word for it, this guy is a relentless beast. Humbled in the inside, bolded on the outside, feet off the curb, try to see him then as you do now, his past try to see.