Birddy Canary

I feel like

Silence is

The answer

To a mathematical


The equation


To make

A novel


For the

Use to


Couldn’t see

What I mean

With a monical

You couldn’t

Feel my Words

With a key

To catch

Up with

the day


Out of


And thank


Your own


Or is it


For what’s

To come

A mediphor


Giving you

The truth

In the


Of what

Is why

I go by

And go


As a silencer

No fake


To pardon


From death

Till only

I am left

Baltimore City Homes

Guess where I’m from…

Cold like Goldie pimps and police… I morn over the men and women I grew up with… Even the paroles, please give me time to breathe, while I bleed… Out… On the street… Blood thickness glazed over where the children play over… It… Kick starts into Pre-kindergarten… In the picture was a deadly grim scene behind me… Like the president behind the podium… Corruption… Trying to get by under poverty so I… Robbed, stolen and sold like how the country was formed… What was mine today… Only time and God can say when it’s my time… So, while I live on… In this snow storm of fire… Im design for hellish climate… My life means nothing yet… I will surely stand up for progress… Nothing provided… Prisoners with in a project lab rat shit… Are in the city making noise like a helicopter crash, clash of insanity from my past… Creeping up on my future fuck it…. Lets go out and play in bullet rain… Aim, pull it, aim… Is the forecast for today… Showers propel back until a quiet silence… Till someone falls, no spring ups… Summer into winters dinner has none….

Voices Of My Sorrows


Two Miscarriage…

One abortion…

Nothing in this world is ever my choice…


I hear my unborns laughing and playing in the hallways at night…

I’m going crazy…

“Daddy Daddy look at meee!”

“look at what I drew daddy!”

I laughed with them…

Then I realised they weren’t there…

I go into down mode…

That’s what I call sad…

My kids would have been young adults right now…

If they were even here…

I don’t blame enyone for enything…

Maybe it just wasn’t ment to be…

Still I’m sad…

I Didn’t Even Get A Tombstone

Nightmare on elm street. Someone or something ominous possess my dreams night and day. The suspect is a omen of evil that circles my mental physique like a burning hula hoop melting my consciousness disconnecting me from all that is good. I can’t fight it so I invite it to crawl out of the mirror and keep me company satisfing my loneliness and emptiness. It’s very presence makes me stronger and stronger. Immune to all forms of positivity. Grabbing me with its cold clutches as it digs into the back of my neck till it gets in my brain and takes over all of my humanly functions and emotions. I’m now distant and aggravated revolving in and out of two worlds. Is it heaven or hell? Then the vultures swooped down and ate at my dried up corps.