2016 @powerpoetry
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She cares little, this giggling nude toddlerLook! Like birds in the sky children walk the streetUnfettered 'bout how to put garri on the tableKpim!
In the Darkest Journey of Woods;
The Twinkling of your blissful eyes;
Reflects the tranquility of bygone days;
Where the wandering of our souls;
Passing the shadows of life;
here you are.
sitting on the cold sand
the smell
reminding you of
the solid aster
your father brought your mother.
you didn't know you'd make it
down this winding road
2016 played out like a song,
Starting off slow then dropping the bass.
But wait let's take it back to the intro
Where things where slow
And break it all down
To the things only I know.
High school and college became stressful and I began to doubt myself
We got a new president and as a minority I began to fear the future, itself
I'm sick and tired
I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired
I'm sick and tired of turning on the news to see innocent people being hurt
The last year has been a slippery slope.
Junior year is like walking a tight rope.
They say get ready for the SAT
Im not really known
but your gonna know a bit about my life,
some struggles and some pains,
the things I had to fight .
Im not here to complain,
im only here to explain,
Senior year
Senior year
They expect so much
yet instruct so little.
Applications due.
Grades improved.
Late nights at work.
But it will soon all be a memory.
Heading to your destination
in the car
i call it the modern horse
we drive with our phones
they rode with a whip
we drive with a heater
and a very loud speaker
They had nothing deeper
Education is really cool
So stay in school
Learn about different things
Spread ur wings
Be free
Keep what you learn
For later in life
So you don't have to pay the price
"He stole what was mine
He stole mine.
What he stole, I owned
I cherished
I adored.
He stole what was mine
Writing is expression
It allows you to no longer be a caged bird you can easily fly and soar
Its a promise that you can be yourself and not feel judged
Writing has help me get over my shyness
The heat from the fire
Doesn't quite reach me
But you make sure I'm warm
As the fire dims,
The conversation grows
We've been sitting for hours
But we don't seem to notice the
The first time I met you, Poetry,
I was silent.
The rhythm of word embodied all
I could not speak.
I felt you,
as you cradled my heart,
