Category Archives: Poetic Justice

Mr. Nice Guy?

Mr. Nice Guy last one to be thought about,

first one to be called on to be given a last chance.

He is given the invitation to advance,

yet he never gets to the head of the class.

In the yearbook of public opinion he gets the dunce cap.


Hidden Bliss

There is a clamor of noise inside my head.

Drowning in letters of doubt, prayers are lodged in my head.

I’m not hungry. I have my portion of daily bread.

The reality is the voices are inside and verbally I haven’t expressed what my emotions tried to hide.

Imternal bleeding

Verbal jabs stain like stab wounds. Internal bleeding cannot be seen as visible scars. The stitches of what once was can cut deep. Sutures can speak through the pain of extracting old perilous facts.

That’s not the way love acts.

Love isn’t written in black and blue.

Facing the palette of nourishing words is where love’s heart is at.

Love is attached with heart-strings, moment of charity and beauty acts.

You never laid hands on her, yet you touched her deep.

Shallow scars are superficial yet they hurt from front to back.

You may never see who stabs you if you are consistently looking back.

Stand Out

I’m out standing. I stick out. As I stand I appreciate in my values.

You don’t have to appreciate me.

I’m invaluable.

I’m standing out not because I’m the exception.

I stand out because I am the example.

It Was All Good

2 minutes ago I said I love you, and now you don’t believe me.

Sometimes I pray that I don’t punk out.

God my family needs me.

I need sanity.

How do I explain who I am, if I’m portraying a false reality?

A beautiful man who understands but follows his truth. 

Who are you?

I want to keep them close, yet my heart beats in my mental compartments.

The walls of my past encase a heart that’s been through concussions.

I lose memories after the falls.

They need to trust me, but I can even recognize who I am.

Am I dad, son, friend?

Is the spirit I hold trustworthy of being trusted again?

I want to offer my heart and there is no excuse.

Sometimes I sit back and become invisible.

I look, but the shadows overcast doubt that clouds miracles.

I question my role in life.

Do I understand my responsibilities or do I respond to lies?

How do I reply?

Are You Serious?

Wearing a serious face allows my smile to lay inside me.

The pain of my fight is shown in my face as I walk lonely streets.

No one walks with me, yet who carries me? I don’t need your sympathy because life isn’t all I breathe.

I dream.

I see through a kaleidoscope of mystery as I navigate through illusions that pose as dreams.

Coping with the reality of temptations, I often balk at the thought of faith. everyday doesn’t have to be a replay of yesterday.

I smile inside to love outside of what I can see.

The pace I set resides in my heart as it makes the sound of each heartbeat.

I will choose to walk in sync with a faith-based life when my thoughts are fixated on the charity that resides inside.

A heart that loves more than it lies.

Personal Values

I value your opinion but I appreciate my mind.

I don’t ask you for permission, yet I ask you please be kind.

I no longer need you for playback.

I rewind time to learn I’ll be fine.

My mind is a beautiful place when occupied by thoughts of love.

I don’t need your lust, love is my beautiful mind.


The days grew cold as you waited for his ego to run out. Your stomach and your breast grew. Who knew he would leave to?

He whispered words that encouraged your urge to forgive his actions him for the meantime. In the mean time unanswered calls erased your smile. You loved him in emotion, yet your heart was the alter-ego of the text’s he wrote.

You called out for answers, please speak to me. His touch was all you wanted but the pitter-patter of what mattered was your heart, it was little feat. Creeping towards the moment you would see him everyday.

He may not be around, but the child he bare lay claim to the love you made. Your appearance of love is seen everyday. You miss him, but your child cries the songs of life that lead a spiritual miracle.

They ask how can you love him, you say easy…

Look at my child’s face.

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Fight or Flight

I have to get it right. This is the way I will take flight. My departure is long overdue. I know your waiting on my flight but the arrival time isn’t right. 

When will the time be right? I think the moment has passed.

Have I lost you? 

They told me subliminally the best way to reach you was to do what they did. To relive empty nights. That’s a horrid way to live. 

I haven’t taken off because the time’s not right. I’m afraid to fly. I’m afraid to try what hasn’t been done. I’d rather complain on why my plane hasn’t taken off.

That’s why I cry. 

I can talk a good walk, but you need me to fly. The journey’s been long. Hopefully you’ll remember me. The call over empty cans cannot replace me holding you in my arms.

Will you still reach for my hand when I reach out my palms?


Needles of love inject me with the faith they have in drugs.

 They want a hit, I just want touches of love.

But I relapse into selfishness.

My heart attacks by succumbing to the illusion that everything is mine.

I’ve loved before but I come back to the stolen emotions that steal time. Didn’t they say that love is blind?

 Love of self. Love to get over. Love to disappoint.

I relapse into the seclusion of broken moments. I allow fear to set in as the high comes in.

I breathe in the world and exhale a sinister grin.

Love is seeping through the cracks of character I sleep in.

I relapse.