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I'm barely a man...

just a poet with a

pen in his hand.

My mind doesn't 

understand the pain

so I draw from ink

like blood from a vein.


I chose the wrong lane.

I need my health to 

change...I need these 

words to provide 

direction, but my soul 

remains in chains.


I'm locked in a cage,

trapped by rage.

I wish I could erase the 

past. When you look at 

my eyes, it's like looking 

through a glass. You can 

see i'm fighting a battle.


When life makes you an

opponent, it doesn't send 

an invitation. I won't be 

wearing a belt - I'm not a 

champion. I'm an unwilling 

companion handing over 

his resignation.

Updated: Aug 22

If God could save me,

it would be a miracle.

I'm not worthy to enter 

a tabanacle. I struggle 

to remain spiritual.


My life is not biblical -

more like an amateur tryin'

to stay afloat in a swimming

pool...I'm drowning.


If a man requires wisdom,

I'm like a deaf man that

can't listen...A tool with no

residual value. A clueless fool

without vision.


If a believers path is narrow,

I'm like a blind man who can't 

walk in a straight line...

Merely a pedestrian out 

of his prime.


If the clock is a boxer I'm

being beaten by time...

They say a believer matures

like wine, I'm like an unrefined 

flavour past his date.

Updated: Sep 17

Keep writing until

you find rhythm.

Tie those lines

together like a ribbon.


Allow the letters to form

in unison - an unravelled

depiction from a complex

creation...a unique invention.


Let your mind articulate

the narrative until you

form something productive.


Breathe...sow a seed.

Paint in colour, with each

letter a different shade.


Enter the stage...allow the

words to leave the cage,

and the nuances to shine

like rays defining the page.


Climb the ladder of a poet,

with every trace adding

to a new chapter, exposing

new treasure.

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