I’ve never been fond of speaking too loud,
So you might get hit by this pages a little harder if you read them,
And I mean read then rebreathe everything.
You can judge the cover and every word that lives within; I’m open.
Just feel what has been engraved on souls.
See truth in better lighting.
No spotlights; this stage is for everyone.
Listen to the performance echo for a while
This paper in my hand paints pictures for more than the arts,
I’m trying to show you something.
This is an announcement for all future announcements,
Take this blood, sweat, and ink as spiritual letters,
This poetry touches,
Feel my freedom in chains,
See the fake smiles, pained faces, and evil beings I’ve seen celebrate,
The victories and failures saved, replayed on this sheet and read in your voice for you,
This poetry screams,
It pronounces words to haunt your dreams with a new speech.
This paper is reality,
And sprinkled with juice from the fountain of youth,
It’s not meant for fame, but immortality…
With the delivery to no limited age or stage barrier,
This is society’s gospel, with sacrafices we make are no long stuck on crosses,
Just burned and mourned at the preacher’s alter.
But only to let free slaves go..
This poetry speaks.
So we will always stay in touch…