Home

I was holding back tears
reading a poem.
I guess it's true what they say
about home.

Mine was broken by those closest to me;
I don't hold it against em though.

We move on,
grow distant,
and older.
I'm stronger now.

Lift by my lonesome.
No spotter.
I learned when to give it up,
from experience.

Felt it fall on my chest,
and had to get it off me.

I can tell you some stories,
but I don't lie.
They still make me choke up
sometimes.

This is how men should show their feelings.
Show they can give a damn enough
to struggle, and to deal with it.

I am my own man.
You know this.
Teary falter,
but none fall.

I'm still living.
All you need is
hope.

Which goes against my very nature,
but I don't look like either of my parents.
Glitch in the matrix- system overload.

Overdosed and saw the grace of God
reflected in an Angel.

I don't need this dope no 'mo.
I hope.
So help me.

I was thinking about making a new home,
where my children wouldn't need to paint their faces
to go through their daily motions,

or almost break down in front of a bunch of strangers
they didn't know.