‘Divine Speech

02 Sep 2009

·markis92

I proceed to write the moral words that I creed containing the metaphors so intense that GOD himself is afraid to read? As it’s down on paper not a single person can comprehend what I believe…But me, Kids are dumbfound to those casual letters were precise meanings give no direct lead, I manhandle the graphite an’ write until I construe grooves in my palm were then my soul bleeds, Meanwhile protecting the present insights from past thoughts, By untangling my brain relieving the intense pain of several knots, Just after walking away mint clean from the future murder scene were that one man gets shot, Interpretations become eroded an’ if it wasn’t noted, Beware the voice has its own choice an’ cannot be quoted, True intelligence is stowed away like sardines, An’ when opened the expertise has no diagnostics to keep unseen, I write without stopping so proceed to read, As I exceed the speeds of common knowledge in the form of CO2, Grown off emotional damage….you’d be surprised if you knew, I witness potential lies within human eyes an’ stow them in my pocket, Important possessions of mine are safeguarded within my spiritual locket, One word to describe me a ~prophet~, The state of being on top of vast logic, Way ahead of the blind believers that write to excite, Wasting many years and counting going so far but hitting not a single open target, In the spread of dollar bills across their carpet, The words they speak only seem to touch minds of the open market, While my poetic rhymes bleach the mind of the youth an elders, Leaving only the stain of truth, So I remain detained within the game of life to learn why I receive proof, Though it was handed to me an’ I still didn’t get it until it was discerned, Turned to dust as I fussed about what really weren’t limits seen, Asking why aren’t the valleys always green, A beam of light directed me by giving me insight to enlightenment, As GOD reveals the best of me, Meanwhile writing down each step of my legacy, An’ getting that much closer to my awaiting destiny. By: Marcus Higgs ………O.S. OutSpoken Silence

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markis92

I\'m 17 and writing is my life i started writing poems to express myself but they became spoken words i was only 6 when i was ready 2 write the words that would mean something for my future

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