Poetry · Writing

i am sorry, justin

i am sorry,

i could give you every excuse in the book:

four classes and work

pokemon is calling my name

toxicity leaks from veins,

yet nothing grieves me more

knowing i kept you on hold

i can say i will make it up to you,

but this stylish line only dazzles

in a mirror,

you deserve better

it’s just not in my veins

Poetry · Writing

cut

i didn’t believe

so you left,

your dreams were to big

for my eyes

floating to a planet

that i didn’t know existed,

i see you on tv from time to time

talking about your rhymes in your prime

how you dropped bedtime for a dime,

i remember those times,

you’d like me more now

you’re a beast out in tao

never needed any vow

just someone to do it all with

you came to early

eyes still pearly

walkin’ to 7-11 for a slurpee

not giving a shit

it’s the end of that skit

Poetry · Writing

Mr. Logan

it’s over.

the smiles of the veterans

stories of war

memories of their loved ones

all in a photo

i’ll remember you Mr. Logan,

it was just a place of business

like any other

your stories made it like any other

i am going to miss it,

wish i got the chance to tell you

that will be gone

to point you to a worthy place for your stories

an ear that would care;

i’m sure you’re having a drink with your son right now

reminiscing;

enjoy the day bud,

you’ve earned it

Poetry · Writing

the wanderer

the wanderer has no reflection

a boulder tumbling down a road

left bloody by her wife

wonderous by her mistress

alone by her husband

the wanderer has no reflection

they; walk

to find

something

a no name feeling

a response to a question

on a dotted line

written in invisible ink

revealed by

well

the wanderer doesn’t know

if you know

and you see the wanderer

on the road you avoid most

let her know

she misses her wife

Poetry · Writing

champion

pick ya feet up

not a three legged pup

i watched you sprint up and down the street

screaming from a stop sign you don’t know defeat

now limping around

on the stand is a crown

lyin’ around

now you got your feet up

stay up you are ’bouta blow up

don’t move; this is your close up

hit it with concrete

keep your receipt

you’re on the hot seat;

goodbye-

Poetry · Writing

trojan horse

we fall

we rise

we find each other at the bottom

it’s not where we started but we here

here at a fountain;

throwin’ dimes

wishin’ for a miracle:

feedin’ weedin’ threw the muk at the bottom

can i get a dolla fifty?

fifty begging for air

yet

we got here

out of the weeds

through the open doors

into a day

where we could breathe fresh air

where the mornings are filled with jelly toast and cartoons

where the nights are not filled with open prayers and sealed letters

and this is Troy

Poetry · Writing

level up – 27th club

chalk it up to good luck

made it without mac

this is what he was afraid of

see what i am made of

i wish you could see what i became

you joined the club last week just walking knees

now it’s me survived on a breeze nowyour heart is at ease-

the man that i am- you would of hated it

you hated everything; but you would of thrown

a killer 27th club party