Untitled

Untitled 1.29.11

This poem is untitled, just a spit off of wat 2 me the world spit ontop of me
The split of the clutter of this world that binds like a chokehold, so I must escape 2 gravitate 2 satiate this Spiritual Hunger inside of me
Never fully understood that the computer, TV, and mr. mrs. Rockstar wannabe prohibited me from seeing me and what I was called to be
Had no team, low-self esteem, a dwelling place in the world that didn’t speak for my dream
I tried this and tried that, but never fully satisfied
Worst thing was that I would cry aloud but no one heard me- the music was too loud
Kept my mouth shut not for fear that they would shut me down, but that they would Notice me
No place, a shame and disgrace, in this world lost and confused, felt no grace
Misplaced hate, what was the purpose of this fate?
On the outside it looked fine, but on the inside I was broke and every good thing inside me confined.

Made to be different, made to be patient
Made to be humble, made to be open
Made not for me, but for God’s glory so that the world can see
How he can bring you out, oh you of solid concrete formation Heart
And it all starts with this one seed, God waters it and watch it grow above the pot-holed fill of shaky weight you call Religion
He can fix any situation, you just gotta let the world go
And I can only tell u and show u bout his everlasting Love which surpasses all law,
Its up 2 you if you wanna live it out and see for yourself
You can see what he’s done for me
More importantly I wanna see what he will do for you

As for now, this poem remains, Untitled.