PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I gave birth to a thought, that just may push me to greatness

Yet the fear in my soul, somehow tells me not to chase it

See, I'm my own worst enemy -- When I should be my greatest ally

But when I speak of what I could be ... I feel I tell lies

It's to hard to except a compliment, with others calling you great

Because believing in myself as others do -- Isn't in my mind state

But people meet me and think I'm confident, cocky, and intelligent

Not knowing the things I do that they love -- I feel are irrelevant

They say that I'm blessed, But this talent hasn't found a road to success

See the constant closing of doors in my face, makes me try less and less

How can I have the power to keep fighting what people tell me is wrong

It's like the strength of lost natave tribes in my soul ... Has gone

And I feel before I have the chance, to truly shine with rhymes

My ticket will be purchased -- And I'll be on afterlife air lines

And I know most people will read this, and think I'm depressed at best

But I've been with me all my life, how much time did you invest?

How many tears did you dry,

How many times did you calm thoughts of suicide?

See I can't count on my fingers and toes, But my numbers high

I've been the one who had to subdue my thoughts and calm my nerves

While others sit and nit pick -- At the writing of my words

Understand,

it's not that I cant take criticism or the idea of someone not liking me

It's just  hard to swallow from those who aren't like me

It's hard to have someone read your manuscript and say "It wont sale"

Like the things that I write wont touch those living in earths hell

So to you, Mr. Publisher, Editor, and Magazine

When I write, It's for those like me ... Not for those in your scene

'Cause "poetry" is really just your thoughts, and life expression

And I'm sure there's less living like you, and more in my direction

So once my words reach your heart, and your mind follows to dawn on it

You'll realize poetry isn't just Shakespeare ... And his sonnets







From the ashes

Of verbal and written

Lashes

Drenched within

Stanzas & styles

I have yet

Mastered

I rise!

Rising with a fear

That has always been known

But is still unclear

So it can never be shown

Within a world of words

That persistently

Clones

I rise!

Through eyes dyslectic

Of nouns and verbs

Not yet perfected

I give myself

Thru pen

Disregarding acceptance

And

I rise!

With flames upon

My back

A pen & pad

Intact

I blindly sign

Words into sentences

&

Paint pictures

Of my mental glitches

For those of today

And yesterdays

Forgotten

Who are

Not mentioned

I shed light

On dark specs

For these areas

Need interest

With hopes

That tomorrow

Shall not see

Sorrow

&

Future years

Shall not

Bare yester

Forcing everything

Around me

Better

I rise!

And I ask you

To rise with me

Rise with strength

I know you posses

Grasp knowledge in bravery

That flows thru your veins

But begins in your chest

Because tho the meek

Has inherited this earth

It is you

Who has been planted in dirt

It is you

Who has been blessed

With a brilliant mind

You who can eradicate time

It is you

Who has been given pen

That can make changes from within

And you who carries a pencil

That can make this world of ours

Sensible



SO RISE!