Mercy

God I really need an anchor

lately I been feeling anger

rising to the surface my mirror depicts a stranger

I been trying to do different but I’m caught up in the wrong angles

still struggling to understand everything u put me thru tho I don’t wanna blame ya so I’m not pointing fingers

its just that the people around me, live more for the symbol of their twisted fingers

and I get caught in the middle amongst my other hang ups

mirror reflections projecting a stranger

veering from sections that direct me to danger

standing in pride puddles soakn my ankles

copn when recorded cordphones get tangled

how can I be a leader if they rather I lead them to war

their problems lead me away from calls where I find respite talkin to real loved ones in order for them to settle a score

but I can’t fault them tho, there aint too much to do really so problems become dug up whenever ur bored

I’m soaked in all these fuckin pissin contest amongst lions seeing who has the loudest roar

and I swear I can roar with the best of them, u as my witness but I quit that years ago

its hard looking out on this yard and believing in miracles

those closest to me don’t even believe, they rather lay their faith in a finished product

and only venture to listen or talk to me when its more convenient for them but I accept it as needed company if I’m being honest

they can’t see who I used to be, and who I am now

versus my destiny that I’m somehow tryna plan out

but they’ll be around later with their hearts and demands out

trying to flip things making me feel guilty with their hands out

Im struggling, omg I swear I struggle

this part is for u, yaw know who u are when I said it I meant it I swear that I love u

but that’s just not good enough huh when I’m not close enough to help u out or even touch u

delayed gratification has became my strength but you allow it to crutch u

pain and the pressures of life proffer promise and purpose but yaw allow it to crush u

I went thru so many names I’ve forgotten who I was way before I came here, forget an alias that made me alien just call me Russell

never mind again call me young russ-resilent under stressful situations

or better yet, WayOfLife, becuz even now, I just live thru it, and thru-out my limitations

I call out from this box when Im in need of ventilation

but how come I’m seen as the sick one but I get on the phone and try to be patient, but I just happen to be the one that’s not the patient

deep down I love her god, but I don’t think that she notice

I also love her too respectfully but deep inside she’s a cobra

I love them too but they selfish with no belief and no culture

oh and I love them too and tho they free, they ain’t living life, they’re just inside of a coma

I guess I love easy and fall hard, the characteristics of anyone lonely enough hiding behind a fasade

I try loving those that its toughest to but love aint always kosher

I try living to love, but all I know is fighting these wars inside of myself that I scribe inside of my poems

what’s life, but choices made from a bunch of conflicting moments

I need u but don’t go to you in those moments when u could make me the strongest

I see prison as my platform but I struggle to own it

my perception and my persona keep me feeling lonely

I think I miss my mom, and maybe the raw feeling of love

too many years I been numb, but relationships always work to both break u and heal u up

could any woman even truly wait and not let another man feel her up

speaking like a man, saying she got needs too, but she still in love

and what about that estrange relationship between a father and his son

my son said I was a bad boy today cuz I’m in jail

I said u right but daddy is in grown up timeout trying to get well

I told him u have to love, listen forgive, and be nice then u can have it all

he listened and showed me real love, I challenge adults to do the same, see he wasn’t mad at all

he told me to hold on so he can put his socks, then came back and listened

its funny how we handicap our kids trying to hide things to keep them safe but the are more resilient and really they pay attention

he’s 6 when I asked him does he know what I do everyday he said that I wear the same thing everyday, ha how would he know

I corrected him saying I got sweats and stuff too but those were just my visiting clothes

I also workout, do my homework and try to help others

one minute left, we said our goodbyes, shared a kiss and said we love each other

if all ur wrongs are lesser than mine, than maybe u should see how u sound trying to compare and name one

responsibility, fault and pride are hard concepts, i used to struggle with blame, I rather not blame but everyday I accept being the blamed one

how can YOU change but somehow in your head accept me as incapable of change and being the same one

I wouldn’t say it out loud, I’m more passive and forgiving now, but I listen to so many from the stand point of me being crazy yet I feel like the only sane one

sirens and violence and riots im on autopilot reading signs and minds doing time times hard times,

rewind, remind me of a past I keep behind to hopefully keep my silence inside of me…shhhh

prison will make u a sociologist with sociopathic behavior

worst moments have me on the other side of a conscientious russian roulette bullet chamber

in prison I’m an indentured slave, fighting for freedom and favor

listening to my siblings vent of how we’ve ventured as strangers

voices in my head screaming hearing their pain in my absence but before it exits my mouth those voices are strangled

I can’t let certain emotions show while these waves are rocking and rising even though I can’t swim, and this prison cruise ship is tainted

I played enough with fate and im not feeling any braver

standing strong for so many years on a wavy foundation

guilt from my mistakes, I tried saving so many, joked about how I’m a ‘captain save a’

but now im in need of a savior

so like I said, God I really need an anchor.

you!

I know your truth

I live inside your labyrinth of secrets

clever the walls you’ve set up to hide

yea you withhold just as much guilt from innocence as I

projecting your cloak of iniquities upon the labelled and lesser

self righteous in your makeup

you pretend to be this line of salvation and wreckage

this boundary between good and evil

a line of scrimmage for justice and criminals

protecting those that have been wronged

by the wrong

as if they too were never wronged

though you are built on this standard of correction

but more like a base line of opposition

the wars going on outside of you

are just as bad as the ones going on inside of you

but the world inside of you

is but a microcosm of the world outside of you

pretending to be this barrier between the civilized

and the savages

protecting the priveleged

from the indigent

facading as a moral platitude of righteousness

keeping the harmed safe from harmony

though the idea of you erects itself high above reproach

your moral compass has long since been broken

mirroring the fragmented sounds that occupy you

your par agonize lines of justice are made up

fabricated by a false sense of security

and it’s discriminating qualifiers of-

the right

and the wronged

life inside you has lost its humanity purpose and worth

though you find worth

monetarily at least

or you’d too, have no purpose

because you’ve showed as much that

humanity is but a blurred line

a clear line that you draw.