Self
I am...
The worst moment in my life
The best in my strife
The most precious thing I can't measure
When I'm under pressure
... But this world is undoubtedly the greatest of all treasures
Already
Feeling the crushing defeat
Of my flaws and my age
Keeping my soul bound up in its chains
Mama told me one day
That I was gonna be great
Said after I got my head outta my ass
I'd get a clean slate
To reinvent myself and be somebody new,
But she had it in her head
For me to die in school
But writing and emceeing frees the soul
In a way nobody else experienced before
How else can you speak human
But through words and emotions?
Through personal experience,
Love letters and explosions
Of thought, Philosophy
Humanity
Every time I connect with yours,
I give my own soul a little color
Paint this masterpiece of human suffering
Between every stroke, someone's life is buffering
Unsure of where it stops and where it begins
No way of knowing until it happens
Some strokes bloody, some strokes bright
Some hide 'round the edges, afraid of the light
But each little dot it's own little world
There's something lovely growing inside
Go ahead, give it a twirl
Am I the dot, am I the painter?
If the Master holds the brush,
Do the dots grow fainter?
Can you hear the hopes and dreams?
Can you listen closely to soul-crushing cries
And a million screams?
Do the birds chirp at your window,
Is the reaper at your door?
The dirt beneath, is it moving
When is it time for me to hit the floor?
I am...
The worst moment in my life
The best in my strife
The most precious thing I can't measure
When I'm under pressure
... But this world is undoubtedly the greatest of all treasures
I am potential,
A million possibilities
And streams of color
My canvas is filled with suffering and joy I have not yet felt
I've never felt more alive with this hand I've been dealt.