PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Well, is there a truth in words, as fine print looks so elegant but still stink as if set in filth.  I’m Gods child and still a man looks as if I am beneath him.  I cry as if I’m a baby because I am lost in my own site. I try so hard to feel my way around but I feel hands pushing me away, as I was turned into a direction that allowed me to find strength, to endure the pain to come.  I fell face first as my knees scraped shattering my soul with flakes of glass rupturing my spirit.  Now I know what I see is an elusion, striking the most sensitive thoughts I can furnish.  As nightmares come to be, tears produce vision as an occurrence of non-destined events shadow my life. Still as I fall I print so eligible ‘these moments give me reason to rize’.  Coming from a tortured spirit, an abused soul, but crowded by captivating lives, this is reason to rize.  



Streaming words flow as snow creates avalanches, as man creates hell, as life forgets beauty and focuses on deception.  Primed by hatred but founded on purity.  Killed by white man and savored by slaves.  As colors optimized the return and stroked by its sought answer.  Belief came to fade as fog forms on mountaintop, and dreams come to be night tears and night comes to be daylight.  Still, time is inevitable as footprints are hunted and north becomes a star sought by prayers of surviving hope, and railroads become trails of freedom.  Betraying the only known massa but far from the only worthy father.  Motivated by the song of adoration, deeming satin the tormenter of life strain forth by pail skin figures who’s sun stained face brings forth ordeal to inhabitants who’s skin shines of bronze and hair of nappy wool. Finding ways to fracture the heart and bring no optimism to self-determination, this inflicts reason to rize.



As time bring chance, and chance brings belief, equilibrium becomes a factor.  A balance of rights, strained minds as dreams came to past, as life showed reason, reason gave power, as power raised voices to speak.  As X spoke from the heart and King spoke from the bible, all had a dream of their people, their followers, their own, to rize.  Rize from destruction, rize from the bondage of oppression, the bondage from self-rights, the bondage from Gods rights, to simply rize.  To echo ‘simply’, as if it’s an easy act but ones hope, one belief, one spirit balances difficulty.  To rize, is to put forth the Holy Ghost to lead you and not work against you.  You can rize. From blindness, through shattered glass, to oppression, still you must rize.