The noises in my head screeching.
My ears keep ringing, taking a toll on my mind from missing targeted goals tarnishing my demeanor dragging my feet as I walk down the path of leave it to beaver. Shit, I tripped from the misstep.
It’s the low road I take when stroking my ego by repeating actions, sorry Godfather. I can’t take sides against the family. Chillin on the block burning a spliff, taking a drink. Slushing Finding Nemo was it.
I should’ve nourished my inner being for new beginnings by encountering explorations in places I’ve only traveled through spoken word situations like London, Indonesia, Cuba, or Rome.
Distracting myself because of Fear Of Missing Out talent was never a doubt. I commit a disservice to the world. Avoiding the greatness God has forsaken buried deep inside my soul I feel taken.
Enduring the misery of the Devil in his red and blue sweater walking mysteriously wanting to stay in the streets so I ask myself,
“God, why must I pay this toll?
I want to succeed with them. Breathe fire and claw at hate with them. Nightmares of a dark future, Freddy Kruger I won’t salute you. I have to let them go.
I can’t fight a war with disloyal soldiers only loyal to the downfall of others so they can keep their heads above water at the expense of my time. I step foot near those acquaintances turned into mercenaries reminding me of Benedict Arnold sound the horn.
I’ve become a product of that environment but my future doesn’t have to be a zero sum game.
I can add value to
any equation by subtracting the negativity and dividing the knowledge amongst those that strive for exponential growth.
Infinite greatness, I remit an income statement that reflects payments on charges I’ve incurred for living in God’s world. Paying late fees that represent my failures every time I gave up constantly increasing my debt to the almighty thinking there’s nothing more I can do.
Shhhhhhhhhhh, the audience is silenced as the noises transcend into the 56th symphony heard by deaf ears, seen by blind eyes, and a touch of faith for the heartless translating an orchestra of my harmonious words.
Open up the notes on your phone or pick up a pen and paper so you can write the song in your soul.
Let it start with the word “I” so you know it’s a start on what was a blank page before.
Waiting for you to pour out molten lava, the blood boils its powers, sweat sauna don’t throw in the towel, tears from emotions of joy. My core erupts this volcanic void.
Thereafter, the beautiful river that was an empty stream now reflects the purity of your soul.
The Devil knocks, there’s something….