I often sit alone and wonder....
The life he lives isn't a fairy tale, there are no happy endings....You get dealt a hand, and you play it.
Love is the four letter word that isn't uttered or spoken about....and feelings aren't something that you share. If you are threatened then you attack. And intelligence is thought to be a weakness but one of his biggest strengths...
Loyalty is spoken of but rarely seen....nothing is sacred. Women are objects, and if you do feel something other
than a rise in your pants for a woman, you don't let it be known...
War is on every street corner, no need to enlist to see it's effects. You can find it in the eyes of the children playing
in the park...And the only thing to hope for is that something edible will be at home waiting for you. Or you hope that you have a home to go to.
The greatest escape from the life around him are the cartoons. For a few hours, everyday, he can be someone else.
A hero, someone who can take the bad and make it good, the wrong and make it right...For a few hours he can imagine that he was anywhere but here...If he times it just right, he can watch his cartoons and still get his chores done...before he hits the streets and hustles so he has clothes that fit right, or at least fit in. His dreams are to get out of here and never look back and the only hope of doing that is to stay in the streets and become someone he is not. He won't admit to that...it's only in his mind that he knows who he is and if he isn't diligent then he will lose that to society as well as his esteem. But that is not how he is built. He is different then most but hides it because where he is from his differences would cause him to have to fight more then he already does. He is a thinker and a doer....most either think or do...to have the ability to do both at the same time, well that makes him more powerful than any of the super heros he watches on Saturday morning. But no one was there to build that up in him....so it remains in him, away from the world to see.
His eyes tell his story, but where he's from, you don't look in someone's eyes long enough to hear it. But if you do get a chance to see into his eyes, beyond the layers and you don't treat it right....well, you sold yourself short...because he is a great man, a spiritual man...still caught in the body of a youth...
Flashforward to when he's older...the years haven't been kind to his spirit...but he is still so beautiful...so strong, so intelligent. Yet hardened and bitter. This is the man I wonder about, the man I have fallen in love with...the man who I have gathered my information about and have made a decision to stand up for, believe in and cherish....This is the man I will continue to write about.....
I often sit in awe of him....
What is he thinking? Standing on the corner, keeping his senses keen....watching his back from the police but also the haters...Does he imagine himself as a King, or just as someone that can blend in and disappear.
His parents, he has accepted, did the best they could with what they had....but he still didn't have the things that the priveledge kids had. He has also accepted that he is fine with that.
How does one survive this life, without become numb to it all? He learned at the young age of 12 to care for himself because no one else would, to love himself because no one else had...So when he reaches his late twenties or early thirties, how can one expect him to show the same emotions that I might show. Where he is from, those emotions could get you killed.
His hands are big and strong, easy to make a fist and strike if need be...but those same hands have also touched me in a way that no one else has....Those hands that can take a life so quickly, are also the hands that when on my body send shivers straight to my heart.
He has been called cold-hearted, evil, devilish...and he starts to believe that he is capable of being all those things, but when we seek each other out, for those moments...his heart shines through to me...his kindness shows in the way he looks at me...and when we lay our heads down after exhausting our bodies and his eyes finally close, all I see is a man, not the devil, just a man who can rest...
He keeps everything inside and just like a bottle of soda when shake, it erupts....but his learned self-control doesn't let that happen often...and sometimes my naivite causes me to invoke his rage because he is so controled...but as I study him, I learn that he is full of different emotions, more powerful then rage...His laughter is a sound I crave for, his smile is a sight I desire and when he trusts and lets his guard down...well that is simply addicting!
I will continue to write about this man...his story must be told, even if it's thru my eyes only.....
I sit and listen to him....
I remember one of the first times he really opened up to me...he first shared some of his childhood with me. He came from a time when family was together and parents ruled the home, not like today, where kids do. He shared with me about before the drugs and after the drugs. How different the times were...How he felt responsible for his siblings and although he was not the oldest, he was the strongest...He doesn't realize how much I listen when he shares with me...wether it's when he and I share a high, or when we have the time to spend and just talk. His passion comes out when he speaks on his belief's and I don't know if he realizes that his passion envokes change in me and if he can do that then he can do it elsewhere but that isn't apart of his story just yet.
When we are alone he lets his guard down and I am just beginning to see the depth that he carries within him. How he isn't just the stereo type that society portray's him to be. He is a strong man outside and in.
He hides his strengths, as well as his weakness and he keeps his friends close but his enemies closer.
His deepest desires will be what I am after...to get inside his heart, into his mind and share his spirit. I accept what he gives without thoughts of myself because if I gain his trust, his love will follow and to be loved by a man as intense as he, I will finally have my heart's desire....
The life he lives isn't a fairy tale, there are no happy endings....You get dealt a hand, and you play it.
Love is the four letter word that isn't uttered or spoken about....and feelings aren't something that you share. If you are threatened then you attack. And intelligence is thought to be a weakness but one of his biggest strengths...
Loyalty is spoken of but rarely seen....nothing is sacred. Women are objects, and if you do feel something other
than a rise in your pants for a woman, you don't let it be known...
War is on every street corner, no need to enlist to see it's effects. You can find it in the eyes of the children playing
in the park...And the only thing to hope for is that something edible will be at home waiting for you. Or you hope that you have a home to go to.
The greatest escape from the life around him are the cartoons. For a few hours, everyday, he can be someone else.
A hero, someone who can take the bad and make it good, the wrong and make it right...For a few hours he can imagine that he was anywhere but here...If he times it just right, he can watch his cartoons and still get his chores done...before he hits the streets and hustles so he has clothes that fit right, or at least fit in. His dreams are to get out of here and never look back and the only hope of doing that is to stay in the streets and become someone he is not. He won't admit to that...it's only in his mind that he knows who he is and if he isn't diligent then he will lose that to society as well as his esteem. But that is not how he is built. He is different then most but hides it because where he is from his differences would cause him to have to fight more then he already does. He is a thinker and a doer....most either think or do...to have the ability to do both at the same time, well that makes him more powerful than any of the super heros he watches on Saturday morning. But no one was there to build that up in him....so it remains in him, away from the world to see.
His eyes tell his story, but where he's from, you don't look in someone's eyes long enough to hear it. But if you do get a chance to see into his eyes, beyond the layers and you don't treat it right....well, you sold yourself short...because he is a great man, a spiritual man...still caught in the body of a youth...
Flashforward to when he's older...the years haven't been kind to his spirit...but he is still so beautiful...so strong, so intelligent. Yet hardened and bitter. This is the man I wonder about, the man I have fallen in love with...the man who I have gathered my information about and have made a decision to stand up for, believe in and cherish....This is the man I will continue to write about.....
I often sit in awe of him....
What is he thinking? Standing on the corner, keeping his senses keen....watching his back from the police but also the haters...Does he imagine himself as a King, or just as someone that can blend in and disappear.
His parents, he has accepted, did the best they could with what they had....but he still didn't have the things that the priveledge kids had. He has also accepted that he is fine with that.
How does one survive this life, without become numb to it all? He learned at the young age of 12 to care for himself because no one else would, to love himself because no one else had...So when he reaches his late twenties or early thirties, how can one expect him to show the same emotions that I might show. Where he is from, those emotions could get you killed.
His hands are big and strong, easy to make a fist and strike if need be...but those same hands have also touched me in a way that no one else has....Those hands that can take a life so quickly, are also the hands that when on my body send shivers straight to my heart.
He has been called cold-hearted, evil, devilish...and he starts to believe that he is capable of being all those things, but when we seek each other out, for those moments...his heart shines through to me...his kindness shows in the way he looks at me...and when we lay our heads down after exhausting our bodies and his eyes finally close, all I see is a man, not the devil, just a man who can rest...
He keeps everything inside and just like a bottle of soda when shake, it erupts....but his learned self-control doesn't let that happen often...and sometimes my naivite causes me to invoke his rage because he is so controled...but as I study him, I learn that he is full of different emotions, more powerful then rage...His laughter is a sound I crave for, his smile is a sight I desire and when he trusts and lets his guard down...well that is simply addicting!
I will continue to write about this man...his story must be told, even if it's thru my eyes only.....
I sit and listen to him....
I remember one of the first times he really opened up to me...he first shared some of his childhood with me. He came from a time when family was together and parents ruled the home, not like today, where kids do. He shared with me about before the drugs and after the drugs. How different the times were...How he felt responsible for his siblings and although he was not the oldest, he was the strongest...He doesn't realize how much I listen when he shares with me...wether it's when he and I share a high, or when we have the time to spend and just talk. His passion comes out when he speaks on his belief's and I don't know if he realizes that his passion envokes change in me and if he can do that then he can do it elsewhere but that isn't apart of his story just yet.
When we are alone he lets his guard down and I am just beginning to see the depth that he carries within him. How he isn't just the stereo type that society portray's him to be. He is a strong man outside and in.
He hides his strengths, as well as his weakness and he keeps his friends close but his enemies closer.
His deepest desires will be what I am after...to get inside his heart, into his mind and share his spirit. I accept what he gives without thoughts of myself because if I gain his trust, his love will follow and to be loved by a man as intense as he, I will finally have my heart's desire....
