I know it took me awhile
trying to figure out
what was worth my while
and what to write about
but now I have my style –
the excess I’ve tossed out –
so my sincerity adds clarity
to these weekly therapy
There’s no need to question
my preferred method of expression
as ideas blend and mix
to discover what sticks
so it can lay a brick on top of a brick
as we build a house.
Just be weary of those who want to kill the route,
so let’s detour to make sure
they can’t feel us out
these days I can’t see why I was filled with doubt.
Now I write to remind
myself of a time
where these various rhymes
were locked deep into the layers of this mind
desperately dying to break free.
They clawed and scratched at my anatomy
mad at me, damaging all mentality
driving me to kick and scream,
punching objects and fucking up my hand
all over a possible blessing I couldn’t understand.
Was it worth it?
I worry that I can’t work it,
I wonder if the ears
would truly hear
as my poems persevere
through the sneer and snide
remarks coming from the cowards who hide
their hearts and at the same time they tried
to take apart my struggles claiming I’ve lied
and deny every step that’s played a part
in the development to the realization
that I lacked the heart. But my revelation
forces their hesitation, giving me an advantage
as I grew to learn to control my savage
impulses and focus that energy into my poetry
so you know this is me, now, without fear
since a conversation I had back a few years,
did you wanna hear?
“Daedalus how do you stay awake?” Asked the engineer,
I put my finger to my chest and said “there’s an engine here.”