From the world's standards, I've failed. (To black women, I'm a sorry black male.) "You're not raising your daughter, What the hell?" #Solo,
head pounding, half dead with no medicine.
Living on the other side of the world, missing my baby girl.
Though my name is dragged in the mud, reaching for love, but none is given to a begging #veteran.
"Christ, wept?!" (I do too.) Wife left, daughter left, my drive left. Almost gave up, until I remembered: "GOD IS MY HELP." Hidden wonders of words intriguing my #Rainman
---- On the floor dying, people bypass eating sandwiches and getting high again.
Street dogs coming by to lick the many wounds, as #Pac
---- death coming around the corner, soon.
No more conversations with the breath of the poet that is ALIVE now; people rather cry out loud & talk up amoung the crowd, after the poet's death and buried in the ground. (Wow.) Speaking bold, till my words are felt. "JESUS CHRIST HAS COME IN THE FLESH..." Love More, and hate less. (1st John 4), HEY. "LOVE NOW, LOVE HERE, LOVE EVERYDAY." Mimi, don't let those fake Christians steer your heart the wrong way. (LORD, Don't let it be too late.) Rich man thought he was living right too, happy with his wife, life, and daughter.
Yet, when he died... Lazarus was lifted to Heaven, as he burned begging Lazarus for water.
He wanted a do over, we all scream for do overs ---- reason they call each moment a PRESENT, time to handle what is given. (Hope things get better before #Christmas.)
Though my situation super stink and I'm wrapped in things that seem dead .... GOD HASN'T LEFT.
GOD HASN'T LEFT. "GOD IS MY HELP!" Lazarus, Above average.
OUT OF HOPELESSNESS,
The LORD SAVED me.
After all I ever wanted failed,
What I heard was more glamorous: "COME OUT LAZARUS!!!"