Thoughts in a Crowded Room
Can I kick it?
Like A Tribe Called Quest
More like a poet
With something on my chest
Real world anxiety
Splitting up my social life
Post Traumatic Stress
Causing all kinds of strife
They say it’s bi-polar
But I guess we all go up and down
Happy times
Then putting on a frown
I got life
Wrapped in these aging bones
Looking for messages
In a world of texting smart phones
Sobriety
In a drunken ass world
Feeling stressed
Like a rock being hurled
Broken
Like a bat from a Rivera cutter
Off course
Like a ship without a rudder
Hard times
In this ever changing land
Looking for smiles
Like an out stretched hand
Battles
Won and lost in the crush
Lonely
Caught up in life’s rush
Pain in numbers
Slapping me like a dueling hand
Challenges
Met with a legged locked stand
Out of Front Street
Putting up my stone walls
Talking bullshit
Showing I still have balls
Night time
Brings me out to socialize
Self conscienceless
Makes it hard to rationalize
True friends
Trying to hold me up
Hustling
Just to fill my cup
Sleep
It comes and goes
Exhaustion
In my eyes beginning to show
Writing thoughts
By moonlight window pains
Pouring out
Like a summer rain
Waiting
On the sun to rise
Hopeful
For a kind surprise
Fading
Like my blunt smoked days
Knees bruised
Offering requests and praise
Perseverance
In the face of this adversity
Struggling
In the cold damp city
Expression
Is my weapon against time
Innovation
Creating a dope rhyme
Isolation
Gotta keep that from catching me
I need my people
Their love is what keeps me free