I am a force to be reckoned with
a ferocious roar that echoes in every corner
wielding your state of mind to craft
to give birth to
to breath life into
vivacious, effervescent, illustrious
words
like dews hanging on a branch that stretches to intensify
though I creak I hold and roughen my timber
stains of awareness flower along my fingers
should you cut me
a sap so pure, so sincere
inky and potent will drip onto a canvas creating a modern day portrait
a reflection
a clairvoyant
mirroring without special effects or dreamy sequences to tone down
temper with
the truth
with a steady grip to this pen my ink stained hands will not rest, will not falter, will not fear the scorn as I let what is inside me spill, although at times the weight of the despair at which I am coming to know troubles me, I understand that this medium of mine, this beloved is my way of seeing
you will not disregard me
you will not avoid me
burying your head under the rubble of wishful thinking
acting as if the antidote to everything is a dash of pity
your excuse for a solution is a heated discussion
swapping of conspiracy theories
overplay the card of ‘mankind is a hopeless race’
end with a smug expression without a hint of an answer in place
I stand here to remind you
let my language incite you
I am a force to be reckoned with
Nubian(Q) 