It swells up inside,
Not hurting, but like pressure,
Expanding to somewhat wide,
Bursting out of me, never lesser.
It takes me, yet it doesn’t control,
Let’s me know that it’s there—
Really wanting me to take hold,
While showing me that it cares.
It breathes, and it feels,
Encompassing and eclipsing mine—
Guiding me as it heals,
Riding me, until it’s my time.
Sometimes I’m its possession,
But only if I decide.
Mastering it is my ultimate lesson,
For the time when I ride.
Sometimes inspired in the day,
Mostly during the dark night,
Just to show you the true way,
I have to, I must write.
Copyright©2015 Raheem Muhammad All rights reserved
The Real Black Voice
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