Black Poetry : Untitled(U Can Name it)

poeticlyspeakin

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Apr 26, 2003
1,172
7
Home is where the heart is, but my heart isn't her
Occupation
Living
God given talent placed on a platter
Something thats treasured like a glass trophy shall soon shatter
Patience is a virtue, my composure has kept me on this ladder
The more prominent you become, the more news scatters

In this race the longer you wait, the longer the path becomes
The 1st is marked bad, the middle is great. nobody bothers to mention the last one
They hate you while you rise, love you when you make it, then glorify you when you're done
They dont understand, you can lose, you can win, its okay to have fun

They point, blame, criticize- they want to fit your shoes
They walk your footprints, erase your tracks to get rid of the clues
And then you begin to fall into the trap and start to believe you lose
Some people are on your side, some aren't, some can't choose

So you begin to lose faith, you begin to not care
Then once you quit, they beg, they cry, they want you there
To use you, to copy you, to patronize you- it becomes a nightmare
And you fight, pull, you even push, but eventually do what others not dare...
walk away.
 

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