Black Poetry : 51/50

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by coey30, Dec 19, 2014.

  1. coey30

    coey30 Well-Known Member MEMBER

    Country:
    United States
    Joined:
    Aug 26, 2008
    Messages:
    108
    Likes Received:
    77
    Gender:
    Male
    Ratings:
    +78
    51/50…

    Filled with all types of mental imbalances where stressors and triggers are firing on all cylinders. Where normal is redefined on a daily basis. It was said that we are all just soda cans, filled with the same ingredients and when shook up with a certain amount of force we’ll all explode.

    I guess it doesn’t matter why I was there but I was
    And it wasn’t an accident or a mistake or even just because
    This place where Meds were spoke of with words so descriptive
    Where the prescription effects can be predicted and addictive
    But I was there trying to find ways to keep my soda in my can
    While failing miserably pretending to be that “I’m okay man”
    And I reach that point where my mirror didn’t show so clearly
    Even after using Windex and a dry rag I could not see the value in me
    So I said a prayer asking for forgiveness and for God to use me as he sees fit
    And somehow I found the strength to deal with it
    And she… in her own head, heard voices for most of her life
    Which ruined her job, her personal life and what she loved the most, being a wife
    While he… was in a chase to stay one foot ahead of death
    When any drug would do, his preference was meth
    Then there is she#2… who first tried to take her life at the age of nine
    Has repeated the process every year since, around the same time
    And I go on with the he’s and she but I think you get the point
    Some walked in for help and others were committed but no one really wanted to be in this joint
    And I walked in feeling “Woe is me”
    And ended up right where God wanted me to be
    And just being me I worked the room, talking to everyone releasing despair and shedding a light on gloom
    It didn’t matter if they were moving 100miles a minute or the dude who represented the KKK
    I spoke to everyone and made sure I had something positive to say
    And before I knew it 4days had passed
    I was going home finally at last
    But some type of way about leaving so many behind
    To fight the demons on their own that, only exist in the mind
    So I shook every hand, and others I offered hugs
    To people who just needed a sympathetic ear and a little love
    And my heart breaks for them, these people I came to know
    I continue to pray for them, whether the recovery is fast or slow

    See I learned we all have baggage. Some of us pack for the winter and others pack for one night. But it’s how we cope with the issues we go through, for some it’s a breeze and others a struggle, and some it’s just a mental disorder. So read the pages before you criticize a book just by looking at the cover and you be surprised what you will find hiding under the cover. So I write something true. Write something frightening. Write something close to the bone. You are on this planet to tell the story of what you saw here. What you heard. What you felt. What you learned. Any effort spent in that pursuit cannot be wasted.