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