Meaning to Time

Meaning to Time
Why do I write? ….
It’s putting meaning to time
Revealing the struggles and the rebuttal’s that we feel in our lives and sometimes….
I feel living black is to be living a crime, stuck between two curtains, but middle ground not even mine
To tell the truth, because most of us are living a lie, and to put ink to print because that’s the only place my truth is defined
To spit ill, and let my conscience flow, sweet profound honey dripping sweet and low, and too cold, as rare as 4 leaf clover. Could drop you tercets but the flow ain’t over
To spill paint, and let God create his image, who says that which is perfect now didn’t have a distorted a beginning
To know me, unlike no one can, knowing one’s self, is the key to holding the liberty bell in your own hand, and Clang!!!Clang!!! To send decibels out reach the shore sands. Proclaiming I am here, you can’t tell me who am
To love, to realize I hold my own key to happiness, that love is sacrifice; deep seeded understanding, constant compromise and reprimanding. Your pride must become your by standard, and your ego a cane. Intimacy and connection must be the ultimate gain. Lust and infatuation cannot be the symptoms that run your brain. But true trust and commitment is key, that shoots the target and also brings home the game
To communicate, more elegantly than I ever could in person, to touch your heart in a devastatingly deep way, only in a way poetry can. Where I can tilt and shape your perception to reveal my purpose, or remove that deep seed of hatred by comparison or to see the beauty of my topic with a sweet analogy, only poetry can do this
It makes sense why I write, to give my thoughts company late at night, to enable dreams to manifest beyond my natural senses, to make sense of lives quarrels, to challenge my own creativity, to spit divine rhymes pure nativity
I don’t know if I chose to become a poet, or if it just became a part of me
See in literature, poetry is like mountain climbing when you can just walk the trail.
Yes the climb is harder but the finish is so much sweeter. See others may never understand your reasoning, your struggles, and the passion which flows from the pen. But the climb, that grind is what you embrace
I think that’s why I chose to be a poet….
I could write clear and shallow easily for anyone to understand but, I rather rhyme and make rhythm and make them think to understand, to use their heart to comprehend, and tug their soul to and fro something like swing dance
Poetry entered my life a dash after a ten, when Pete Rock & CL smooth Reminisce Reminisce captured my brain and connected to my soul. I first sought to be a rapper, but it was only in poetry I could let my lines go, and fully express the God given mandate of what my mind was trying to compose
See life throws so many burdens on you, you forget about the little things, sometimes you drop your pen and stop writing, and you cage your song bird. But then once again you remember your pen remains your strength, the key to overcoming, she is my peaceful bliss
But when the lines are all remembered, the lyrics contain your soul, your bird is flying free, in your space you feel at home. When you’ve been searching for the reasons, or just trying to escape you remembered why you chose poetry, you remember to this day. And through regurgitation of words I heal and speak true. I send poetic blessings out, one for me and many for you.
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P.S. I have a word document version I couldn't find to upload. So If i can send the official one later i would appreciate it.

This poem is about: 
Me
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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