When the day has gone
and the night has come
Did I help create
or perhaps neglect
Did I stand up for another?
Did I speak for my brother?
Did I speak for myself?
Did I choose the words to spell?
Was it a given assumption
without given corruption
In the impact we make
and the words that partake
Did they come from within
or were they next to kin
With deeper reflection
without making exception
did I listen, more than speak
did I silence, more then preach
Did I take the time to be still
and make sure my words are my will
When we shed the cloth of numbers
and the illness given hungers
the judgment in skin colors
or the labels posted somber
When we look into the mirror
and we see internal heroes
perhaps, than perhaps
we may say, I see you
turn our face to another
and without paying a matter
we may say, I see you
Life is a token moments unspoken living a series of fun and quite serious
Time is of the essence When we realize our presence Choosing moments as given Our lives can be driven
What comes, goes what goes, comes what rises, falls what falls, rises what is, isn’t what isn’t, is what will be, was what was, will be what we speak, is silenced what we silence, speaks
A labyrinth in roads My skin deflects swords allowing the essence necessary for presence
To see is to love To be is to have To touch is to taste The Choice of the Brave
Poetry, music, creative writing and a desire to inspire....Isaiah 45:2-7 I will go before you and will level the mountains[a]; I will break down gates of bronze and cut through bars of iron. 3 I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord