poet lamentations
2 min readDec 25, 2021
- First and foremost,
I am a poet. What comes after
that depends on perspective.
You can have your opinions
You can hold on to your statements
but some of you forget
that art is as evasive
as life can be: You never fully grasp it. - It is impossible
to capture life in its natural essence.
some of you rely on motivational speakers,
swallowing a breakfast of influencers
like they truly know something
but that something
is usually capitalist propaganda
harboring the same agenda
selling you this illusion of prosperity
meanwhile you ain’t got a raise on your penny. - Prosperity ain’t for people like me
I like to say. Justice ain’t for people
like me neither, I reckon. What does
that mean? I heard in the crowd. But
I am not about to discharge
I am not about to spit all the shit
that happened historically
so that I can help you remember
people like me. I rather talk shit
about the weather and pretend that
this racism shit ain’t fucking up with my mind.
I can’t let it fuck up my mind
My mind is all I have left. - Mind. Fascinating thing.
fascinating machine. That’s where the memories
replay themselves. That’s where pain, happiness,
indifference, anger, you name it are truly stored.
Resentment. That’s also stuck there, in the mind.
I have lived with such feeling
See, when you’re the youngest of three
family tend to not take you seriously
so you just fade little by little subconsciously
until you’re older
then you realized “fuck I should have been bolder”. - So is there more to say?
I am sure you get the idea by now
I am nothing but a poet
Who deemed it profitable to write in the name of upset
To whom you may ask?
Well dare I say to myself
’Cause honesty is all I ride on
also forgive my sense of aplomb
For quite frankly
I got nothing to do
Then to write ’til tonight’s full moon.
