Street Concentration of a Diaspora

Hermit

I found my soul
it told me my aspirations are bigger
than my life
like any journey I’m leaving everything
My life to this point in time
no matter how grande
was only my home
only the beginning

Rain falls on fire

People will never see the scope of great people
That’s what hurts them the most

There is a prejudice in games in the use of deities demonic enemies.

During prison visits
and the pedophiles
walk by
Makes me want to stab
them

Nothing is promised.

Lies

To wake everyday is an insult
It insults faith
Heaven and hell have failed
Waking is a testament to free will
Faith destined everything against me
yet I accepted a hard life to prove
free will has more control over life
than faith ever will
faith never becomes free will
only free will becomes faith

Truth

Truthful sleep to me never occurs
until an hour before I wake
Full on delusion it takes over
I live different lives
Have different experiences
and leave with words to real
yet I wake up more astonished
to the nightmare and leisure of life
Do I writhe in aches
or do I stand up
throw a embroidered towel
over my shoulder
from a chest high wooden cabinet
Stumble to the shower
across the house
and always look in the mirror
questioning…
“Why the fuck does my hair look
like The Partridge Family did my hair at night?”
What’s so special about my life?
I’m just an average maniac.
Literally.

But…
If I got any karma chips
I want to cash them in
It’s probably a good time

Pure Karma

There’s three kinds
Check the text
Karma isn’t a personal
It’s not about good or bad in return
It good towards the world
Pure karma is good for goods sake
I never wanted blessings
or favors in return
People just need to be loved
once
To understand there is more
more to the world
the world doesn’t revolve around anyone
Karma doesn’t either

Today

I’m tired
I’ve been fighting too long
Yet every time I wake
everyone keeps fighting
no one has ever given up
Life goes on…

There is sadness in knowing the true story of others yet it makes living more meaningful. To see a person and remember their origins and adventures to arrive at this point.

Even if there is a night of reflection
The sun rises and the tears dry
The day begins and living to do
A new day to eat, breathe, and see
Another story to carry
It’s a fucked up world
But we gotta make the best of it
It isn’t trivial to be alive
Life goes on…
In a world with no such thing as
normal

Black Sheep

We truthfully came from the slums
To be one of us…
To be us…
is to come from nothing
To know death and life
Art is easy from a life of experience
We are the gangsters with golden hearts
To never regret sticking to the norm
Never breaking the mold
All I have to put on the table is my life
That’s all I ever had…
It’s not the drunkness talking
But my family love their communities
Yet no matter how much we do
We carry the mark of the slum

Baby the world made me a devil
I carry as much happiness as pain
As much failure as glory
More blood than tears

Baby all I learned was to be a good person
Is heart good enough?