I give my heart, my soul to the matter of diction. The word of mouth speaks no fiction

I make the words speak so people seek, me who I am and what I'm supposed to be.

The word of depressed it can only be thressed. The word of diction knows who speaks

fiction. They act like everything's okay, who are they to say? Are they the ones  make that

decision? That's God fight, am I right? The word of diction, had people getting abused,

molested is that what they choose? With  the word of diction they try to make fiction. All up in ones

face, knowing they have no grace. They make lies fast that sting like a bug. The man in

the mirror is the powerful one above. The word of diction lets you talk in their face, they

see what happens behind closed doors until you change one day. You've tried to fix your

heart and mind thinking the diction is something to floss and shine. When floss  is good it's good,

but not with sin that people miss understood. When you open up your mouth with the true

word of diction telling  of  your molestion. They  think it's mislead fiction. You try to open

up your mind to leave your evil pass behind. They think your same person that they see, the

same person who had emotional anxiety. Knowing who you are you shut down. Not

being sociable with people around. The word of fiction has kept you isolated separated

from the people that matter in your life. You fight back by taking care of yourself and doing

what's right to where you in your heart it has to be right. You go to bed with a feeling in

your chest saying I'm not the best. You look back upon just to see...but in the mirror you

say" THAT'S ME!!!'' the man you put in jail says mirror mirror on the wall. I gotchu now

aren't we having a ball? The word of diction doesn't speak tonight, your 25 hanging from

a  ceiling not putting a fight...

How do I know this? Well can't see because i this  poem your reading about me.

Je'Ryan Anthony Jackson