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.