Hi, I’m walking around with the weight of my dream,
from start to finish it might not be what it first seemed
you see its on my mind and in my heart
but for now I feel like its not quite at the start,
and the waiting can seem like hesitating and leave room for notions of procrastinating
Could it be that I am back peddling
when what I really want to do is gain the ground lost in years of meddling,
in things that didn’t matter, but made noise with chaos and clatter,
I would hate to get to the end of my life and realize that none of my fears have come true,
but they changed the way I lived my life, and what I put my hand to
so instead of taking ground and being brave, I was just weak and so mis behaved.
But this can’t be me, not anymore, because I have caught glimpses of what lies in store,
while I can’t paint the picture to its entirety, it not my masterpiece, but he who lives inside me.
At the risk of this sounding a bit like a spoken word, the notion I write poetry is more thanabsurd,
its just that sometimes I get so worked up that my words come as if delivered by the truck,
load like they could just explode and corrode the modes of behavior I have consistently showed,
So I just type and I write and I think and I fight that maybe I can, that I just might
have what it takes to catch all the breaks and raise the standard as well as the stakes
that singing inside me was a great song, that the enemy wanted to silence all along
the race is blood sweat and tears, and the nights can be long…
But I carry this dream, and I will finish it strong!
