Gospel I found God behind a pen cap. He struck me with scriptures promised of better tomorrows. I pray to paper, so trees exhaled me patience. I learned that poetry is meant to be subtle, but I love to play with words. Syllables are my toys; language is a treasure chest I keep my secrets in. Tu nunca sabes que idioma voy a usar...meaning youll never know what language Ill choose. Personification to me are metaphors squared. I want to love like God does, but I carry fear of rejection he suffers on a daily. I wish I knew how he handled them. I want to have peace in my heart like Muslims, but I often catch people looking at me with American eyes. How does one find faith when day to day life creates new ways to break them. I want to walk on water, but I found ink as a better substitute to wash my sins with. Its not the cleanest of ways, but hate tends to leave worse stains in the form of DNA. How many family trees never grew roses from concrete due to violence. Until I spark a change, Ill never say I made it. I mean I would like for people to someday know what my real name is, but Ill never make this about me. Its about those who prefers bibles to bullets; prayer breads to poison; Qurans to que balls moments trying to pocket victims on corners. See, I have found faith behind a pen cap. I chose poetry over...
Posted on: Wed, 09 Jul 2014 18:02:17 +0000
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