Sometimes I catch myself daydreaming or star gazing
Looking up into the universe, trying to comprehend
Ideals like love, passion, humanity and where I fit in the mosaic portrait of life.
But that’s what it’s like for me being a poet.
Constantly over analyzing my over analyzing
Trying to find truth in an abstract concoction of words that
Bleed out of my fingertips like life out of my nostrils.
Turning my everyday emotions into scriptures written in the book of my life,
Emotions that are physically manifested through the voice of spoken love.
I was born with a gift to express the human condition, suffering.
I rhyme it, disguise it in literary devices
As a way to drive my emotions into catharsis
In hopes that my scripture when spoken can touch at least one person.
Black and Wordy 