Three steps forward
two steps back
a child is birthed
only to mourn
the unfairness of life
grief’s warranty
Four steps forward
three steps back
loss is a given
trial and error
trial and loss
loss after loss
three steps forward
two steps back
wounded and jaded
weakness has faded
only to be seen at times
in the sea saw called life
the timing is never quite right
never quite ready
yet somehow, eventually
we strive to arrive
stepping forward and back
In my darkest days
I learned to see
To dance at its core
Recreational store
Selling goods and deeds
For any ailing hunger that feeds
For in my darkest days
there was no light
But I learned to see
What is joy without a teardrop?
What is life without death?
What is happiness without sadness?
What is trust without deceit?
What is honor without disgrace?
What is trust without jealousy?
What is confidence without insecurities?
What is calm without chaos?
What is wisdom without folly?
What is strength without weakness?
What is Love without Hate?
What is perfection without mistakes?
What are good deeds without sin?
Perhaps simply just another unfelt blank space
I didn’t know
that my core was silky brown melanin
my hair dark, opulent essence
royal skin filled open pores relevance
that became the hindering truths
until I grew up?
I didn’t know
that my core was bleached on fumes
my hair long golden blooms
and my skin porcelain views
that became the hindering truths
until I grew up?
I didn’t know
my regal descendants’ presence
corn rows, weaves, fros of excellence
boisterous curves filled with leads
that became the hindering truths
until I grew up?
I didn’t know
that my language was unspoken
in lands foreign to my birth token
in varied shades of browns, whites, yellows, and blacks
until I grew up?
my knowledge basic arithmetic words
translating with each passing year into forms
even though I still bled in red, smiled in no language
took a breath in the same air
drank water from the same womb called earth
I didn’t know, I was different
until one day I grew up?
In the most somber moments
In the abysmal torments
Prayers were the string
Cruelty emptiness brings
A tear was shed
A sight was fed
Beyond hopes and dreams
All the beautiful things
Because prayers, wishes, and hopes
Can only take you so far
Nothing is ever perfect
Nothing is ever easy
But if you manifest and do
Figure out what works for you
The effort worth the work
Because prayers are only the string
Your work abundance shall bring
When you get into a prosperous routine
Cry if you must, my child
Don’t you know the flowers bloom
The Trees grow
The waters flow
Through winter, spring, summer, fall
Flowers wither, trees fall, floods happen
storms arrive
let the tears expel your disease
let the hurt strip you of your embryonic innocence
let your sorrows teach you lessons
that new-found wisdom can turn into blessings
Cry if you must, my child
don’t cry for the same thing again
just like those flowers
the trees, and those waters
will begin to bloom anew and shine their beauty again
feeding, nourishing abundant life & light
so will the garden of your soul
and the essence of your spirit
Because nothing in this world is permanent
not your greatest happiness
and not even your greatest sorrow
Pause when you are angry
Pause when you are sad
Pause when you are happy
Pause when you are informed
Pause if you don’t know
Pause if you are hostile
Pause if you are blessed
Pause if you are stressed
Pause instead of assume
Pause and don’t abuse
Pause when judging harshly
Pause when thoughts are binding
Pause always Pause
Sometimes, we just need to Pause
be thankful, appreciate, soak in, and bathe
in the glorious blessing
Pause and dissect the turbulent
less than
Pause and Simply Breath
Nostalgic quotes
seeping through pores
flowing words
river that flows
trespassing emotions
unwavering devotions
consuming erosion
persuading contortion
twisted commotion
intoxicated extraction
submissive action
turned into passion
emotions in words
Spring into Summer
Summer to Fall
Fall into Winter
Winter into Spring
Different Seasons?
Same Seasons?
They happen every year
Cycling ever clear
Seasons are like rivers
The Water looks the same
We never touch the same water more than once
Heal your mother wound
Be bold, blossom and bloom
Get over your own scorn
Transcend and mourn
Revive and be more
Heal your father scars
So they don’t become prison bars
It’s easy to blame
But much more fulfilling to aim
For a better version
Of what you should actually believe
The life you are entitled to live
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