Even if...

pen and men
have something in common
with no paper or pad
no mom or a dad
they keep their emotions in

but still i write

using rhymes as my grind
to touch heaven and earth
with a confession for the ghetto
and everyone in the dirt

i love 'em

so much so
that i'm scripting from the soul
with my eyes closed
transparency colors me
like stained glass windows

my soul is see through
clearly connected to regular people
far from heaven sent
but relevant
giving them something to look up to

because even in the darkest space
my Father finds a way to give us grace
may not always see his face
but if we could
why would we need faith

but the God I’ve found
seems hidden from them
behind Heaven's doors
with no hole to peep in
so they hang outside
sinking deeper in sin
graduating from unbelief
to full blown transgressions

quarantined down there
close enough to hell
to justify being scared
but too far from heaven
to convert complaints into prayers
so they gossip about God
as if He’s not there

Jesus Christ!

excuse me for sounding irreverent
but my auntie needs evidence
that life can get better than this

give her a sign
with dollar amounts
let faith translate
into bank a account
that can make ends meet
before the rent check bounces

ups and downs are an everyday sport
but life ain't fun and games no more
empower me Lord to hold down the fort
better late than never
even if a day late and dollar short

amen