"I feel like I'm a lose my mind when the struggle seems too deep. So much for my eyes to see, the good, bad, and ugly and it seems like better days remain far, but I'm always optimistic. But, man it feels like I'm losing by what God allows me to see, but how many times do we as poets has to preach, until our words are taken seriously, not as just art but a reflection to our ills? I feel like I'm more in tears than with smiles, less homies more enemies. And I'm the paranoid one? Blunts becomes normal, stuff not healthy to the body, becomes the comfort cause the shit my eyes sees, has me more depended on the smoke, than just saying no. So, you be the judge on whether I'm losing it or not, cause I hate how I feel, and it seems like nobody gives a fuck, cause of their own struggles."
©gazeldeas
G