Brother who expresses himself
Through the volcanic eruption of words
Hot and heavy flowing rapidly
Through cyberspace and onto white paper
Ready for delivery to those who welcomes
my presence and feels the beat
like the congo drums permeating through ears
For my chest is still tight
Closing my eyes to visualize
the wonders of my soul
The mystery game did I play
Should Ahkmel stay or runaway?
However, it's like countless
babies crying out from the suction cups
inserted into their mothers' wombs
relating to the outer thoughts
escaping from outside my brain
that has me walking restlessly
through a world
others cannot see but analyze
through the escapades captured on paper
or outputted to a cyberspace screen,
But know, I feel deep within
For I am a weary traveler
Looking to be heard
And not always understood
Removing those chains to hear the echoes
Of my voice that whispers in the wind
Feeling the breeze of my own presence
Following slowly behind me
And know, I can be to myself a friend
As I have now let go
Listening to discover the inner me
Where at a time my resistance
has kept others remote
where I am now removing the glass
That separated my presence from the world
While I was being
Just Me
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