Can't Force It

All the love I wish to know, I have known long enough to know
That deserved love is not earned love and sometimes it won’t show
What you can’t get or don’t want or wish from the other
You can attempt to borrow from the affections of another
You can fuss and cuss, stomp and fight or throw fits
Still won’t be able to get back all that was missed
The love goes on, with or without lips to kiss or hands to hold
Love will sometimes burn itself into your very soul
A sacred scar that you will carry for the length of your years
To be tormented or uplifted, you will not escape the tears
So listen to the words I give, I hope you understand too
Even though you love someone you can’t make them love you.

The Standing

Something darker than this I've seen
warped bits of a dream

a black man now shamed
once thought of as kings
these days glorified thugs and thieves
like we trying to steal
what was stolen 400 years past

Darker dreams that still persist
where a black family can't be just that
Love and care; all that were wished
Inflated thoughts that have fallen flat

Being a man I am black, so I feel so beside myself
I can't turn back pages lost,
pages burned,
can't read the words to tell you
what I've learned.

Something darker than this I've seen

Oh, now he's a man. "what do you mean?"
I don't know if I do enough, still in between
a woman I love, a promise, a ring
Still can't give you everything.

I fight for a day to be understood
that though I'm black, I certainly ain't hood
I want a love, a life afforded all that I should
but if I didn't fall down how would I know that I stood?

The Never Man: Recovery

Recovery is slow, and I burn through the days, so my eyes glisten bloodshot red

when I swallow the morning; I almost choke on the sun, needing to eat light

cause this darkness is keeping my arteries tight.

I took out a loan on time cause I never have enough left over
As it slips through my hands. I’m the Never Man, never could-never can.
I never juked right; I barely ran. I’m in recovery and it’s slow processing and second guessing, terminal outpatient raving and foolish, puerile cravings of a young man, aging. The years grant gifts of periodic joy, I wander and wonder why I play life so coy, why I’m shuffling my packaged feelings like an errand boy.

Recover. Repair. Under duress, my blessings are a semblance of sleepy-eyed gestures within spiritual haze. A hollow wish pulls an empty gaze, a blind rodent scurrying through a tattered maze. The abandoned home. The missing page. I’m the actor performing his show off-stage, the unheard soliloquy fueled with rage.

I wake up and grab my cup and choke down the sun. I want to feel it going down but my body’s too numb. The Never Man: never free, never done, never defeated but always unsung. Recovery is slow, but the madness is fun, and I burn through the nights just to choke down the sun. I learn through the days and the battles I have won. I burned through the age to the man I've become.

I Hurt, I Pray, I Cry...

I hurt, I pray, I cry for the day
That I don’t have to anymore. It’s the only way to envision happiness.
And happiness is shackled, a fool lost in chains
While I do battle, worried and worn, torn and stained
My scars are hidden, still, you’ll know the day
You’ve seen the tragedy of the hurt I refuse to display.

I hurt, I pray, I cry for the day
That I don’t have to anymore. It’s the only way to envision happiness.
And happiness is a sucker, a chump that got beat up
Too many times, that’s why I’m watching their moves, turning the heat up
So I can avoid the pain, I don’t need the prospect of therapy
No longer a youth, long in tooth, walking the path to a better me.

I hurt, I pray, I cry for the day
That I don’t have to anymore. It’s the only way to envision happiness.
I am grasping light, figuratively holding the method of liberation
Peeking at it through my fingers, amazed at the illumination
I would hand it to you, freely, if you only would look my direction
But maybe it’s too much to see, at once when you’re looking at your reflection.