My Pen

I pick up my pen and it bleeds • Cause its dying to lay seeds (in the minds and the ear of all that can hear) • My peers might not understand my cry • Wish I’d lay down and die • However, I refuse to go quietly into this night • My words deserve flight and as I fight to reunite with the power to overcome and over-stand, you will recognize that I am too man • And I too have a voice and a choice to rejoice or of course, speak up against the desire to silence me from my right to discuss my disgust • This is my pen, my pad, my brothers, their dads, lying and dying so that my ink won’t dry up so no sir I can not NOT give a f*¢k • It may not be in my best interest to speak out at this time but it is not my interest that I have in mind • See the mind is a beautiful and terrible thing to waste so I dare not depend solely on someone else’s interpretation of fate • In case you didn’t realize the real lies that are told to you on your nightly news • Let me be the one who verify and help you to clarify your views • Its clear to me that mainstream media has alienated your ability to see • Not every dark face is a threat, no more than a light one is to me • You are more than “the man” simply holding us down • You have son’s too that who without freedom and finance wouldn’t be around for you • True, we all see the violence, protest and uprising but this is a result of depression, oppression and a people that have for 300+ years been drowning • No sir, I will not sit in silence and if you choose to shop elsewhere “Ok…fine then…” I do not operate off fear, and if you want to judge me off words then judge these here • I was created to create and inspire creativity so yes it consumes me • My pen carries my voice and allows me to presume thee: Innocent until proven guilty of malice and carelessness but it doesn’t allow me to care less about innocence