Isolate all my pieces, I’m broken;
Put em together, I’m a whole poem;
I write bits of my wrongs hoping I’ll be all right;
For every answer I find at daytime,
More questions arise at night;
Sometimes I feel like the tip of my pen is fire and my ink is gasoline;
At times it seems like my hand is the only thing I’m burning.
Glued to poetry, I’m unorthodox, I get high on my own truths;
Comfortable being a paradox, I got lots of nothing to prove;
Dead or alive, I don’t belong in a box for sure;
Aware of my confusion, I’m yet to find the cure;
Poetry is the infusion that makes this life easy to swallow;
It’s my redemption in this world of lunatic slaves who follow
The wind chasing dreams made in the west;
I’m no exception, I’m special, like everyone else.
This is a reflection of an illusive mind trapped in a body with a shattered heart;
These are confessions of an artist drowning in the ocean of his art;
The flow comes easy like a fart but the control is hard;
The pressure’s high when you try to be on the same list as Rugamba;
I dream of drinking with legends, every night I raise the bar.
I picked the torch from the dead
to start a new flame with an old spark;
I tread between traps but I’m not afraid,
I trust my guts, they got me this far;
The sky is my map, I’m sailing on new waves, following my star;
The journey is worth the struggle when love is every step of the way;
Worry not about death, we’ll all pass away;
I just wanna make every breath count;
You never know this could be my last one
Heartbeats don’t go on forever but every bit of em keeps us going;
So I’m gonna live for me and those that died before exploring the smiles, the wows of life;
One piece at a time…
Till I fall asleep in the eternal peace of mind.