An Author's Cry

 

An author's cry

From a continent deemed have no lights

Seen from the loophole of my skin

Where silence grace the paper

And words filter the atmosphere

As my talents are my undoing

For she came with her heart dangling

Like sacrifice onto the alter she claimed

But in all honesty

My words she sought to incarcerate

As I was the beauty she despised.

 

After my tears rolled down on paper

She tears my heart to please her arrogance

Wearing a crown of superiority

She lies of being of good heart

Yet allotting a Judas kiss

Under the cover of the night

As my skin speak of my unprivileged plea

She snatches the saint line

And feed my soul

Off her infidelity games

That my sheets wrinkle at day

Awaiting the night

Where she host another.

 

Claiming the dangerous words

Her hate lies in the bed of my legacy

Crowning my head a destitute

But my pants speaks highly of her desires

As she probed my bed with her scent

That the truth get scattered between the sweat of two

Under the blanket without

Chewing my soul with her lustrous buffet

For she came with her heart dangling

Acting out like a lamb

But internal a wolf on rampage

Purging my skin with her glorious lies

Her words.

 

Who was to believe?

When her skin was true

And mine

Came from a continent deemed have no lights

And the streets glory given to those who lies

For history was her words

Under my skin

Deleted to stand a fair trail

As she author a lie to stand true

And debunk the truth as lies

For she was superior

So the world claimed

Neglecting my tears rolling on the paper.

 

#CrazyNotions©

God made money, but money made men run mad

 

Just the other day
a friend charmed my mind to a taste
a taste that became a test
as her words rang miles
miles of vanity pleas
as God made money
but money made men run mad

As just the other day
a friend charmed my mind to a sprint
a sprint that morphed to a marathon
a marathon i found my soul strung upon
as the vanity of thoughts
drunken my state
a state where money holds
though meant to sustain and thrive us

As just the other day
a friend showed a line
a line that made me crazy
as it spoke true
but scarred my ways....

Weapons Of Mass Destructions

 happy was the day

i was born

with no chain around my neck

i cried

but years took hold of my neck

and broke me down

before chains, became jewelry

wrapped round it

that i choked more

as days expired

suffocated at the pleasure of few

as my gifts

became weapons of mass destruction.

happy was the day

i was born

with no stabs upon my heart

i loved ease

but decades did a number 

and left stubborn scars

for before, i was a lover

wrapped in the glory of joy

but time, crowned sorrows on my plate

that every time diner rang

my stomach knotted

displeasure serving a feast

as my gifts

became weapons of mass destruction.

happy was the day

i was born

with no snaps or talks after my

i rejoiced

but my voice were what they were after

calling it a must

to be under a master without  heart

that bed got soaked of tears

begging for life

yet denied to live

for picture perfect

were the only story allowed

as my gifts

became weapons of mass destruction.