117.


Is it possible to be all things?

Is it out of my range?

To be a star, in the midst of abysmal waters.

To be a vibrant man, in the midst of unfortunate shortcomings.

To be a cultural kid,
If hop hop is dead…

Can I be the revival?
That’s pretty wild too —

The fact that I search for freedom but allow chains to latch onto my hollow soul that swallows black and spits out light.

I am brown, external,
Internal, I am white.

Whole wise, I am human.
Do you see my light?

This struggle, this antagonistic fight and mind of mine.

Battling inside, but outside I’m fine.

Where do I cross the line, and embrace my totality.
I don’t want to turn down, like a light switch on battery.

I want to be Tesla.
I want to be precious.
I want to be righteous.
I want to be electric.
Eccentric, no, I want to be hectic, chaos, all.

I want to be eclectic, never pretentious.
I want to be accepted.

It took my heart to pen this.
She took away my heart for ransom.
And now I am penned in.
So now I am releasing, and cutting all pretension.

I want to be relentless, in my journey and sentence.

Free and independent,
I want to be my own sentence.

I want to wear my words, in essence, and grow from my curses, and lessons.

That ultimately frees my soul, from the cultural expression.
Rap.
Hiphop.
Poetry.
Soul.
I.
Ultimately.
Wish.
To grow.

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