Behold my creation, torn down without hesitation I set sail, my only possession this alphabet, my life's foundation My words, origami-folded, a tsunami of the mind, an anomaly An old soul, baring all on these pages, airing out my dirty laundry Reflecting on this art I once neglected, feeling unworthy My own recordings unsupportive, a foreign concept, it perturbed me I drowned myself in drink, avoiding the ink pen's embrace Ashamed of my wasted potential, my forward-thinking now a disgrace But a spark of inspiration reignites my passion, a comeback of sorts One track at a time, I'll streamline my thoughts into titanic retorts My family and friends, my greatest cheerleaders, still wondering if I'm writing As I redirect this lightning, I redefine myself, igniting My Zeus, once on cruise control, now reignited A recluse no more, but a father, responsibilities now united I once feared to touch greatness, to post up like Hakeem But now I watch the world spin, at the top of the seventh inning Scouring through old notebooks, losing sleep with each new beginning My hair thinning, my days spent channel surfing, mishandled and too deep I can't play God, too reckless, too dark, my past too peppered with careless misdeeds Two years sober, but my remorse weighs me down, like King Kong on my shoulder My poor choices, like a boulder, hindering my progress, my regrets a beholder My temper hot as Haiti, my patience shaky, my mind a hazy 70s baby Maybe I lack the stomach, but I'm on this journey, I won't let up, I won't be lazy. Maybe I lack the stomach for the journey, but I can't afford to be a fern-y I need to fight for what I believe, turn the ashes to a phoenix-worthy My life's a canvas, a work of art, every stroke a new beginning I'll paint the picture of my own redemption, leave my fears in the past unwinning I'll rise above my own limitations, break free from my own incarceration Use my pain as fuel for creation, and let go of my hesitation I'll write my story, a legacy to be told, and leave behind a trail of gold For the ones that come after me, a message of hope to be sold I'll plant my feet on solid ground, face my fears with a steady sound I'll use my voice, my pen, my soul, to bring light to the world around I'll be the change I want to see, inspire those that want to be And in the end, when it's all said and done, I'll be proud of the man I came to be. Look what I built, then destroyed, no remorse or regret, Now I'm on a voyage, stepping into the sunset, My only asset, this alphabet, words shifting like origami, Mentally a tsunami, possibly an anomaly, In my older age, putting my soul on this page, Airin' out my dirty laundry, airing out my rage, Looking back at this labor of love I once aborted, Deemed it unimportant, unsupportive, I was distorted, Pouring and drinking, neglecting my Inkpen, I should be ashamed, my pen game was insane, always forward thinking. Chorus: Inkling of a comeback, start with one track, Been there, done that, but I got cold feet, Hopefully, this poetry will show me the 1 set of footprints on the beach, The mic booth is my escape, a chance to paint without restraint, Dear God, my sole complaint is that I mastered the phrase "I can't"... Verse 2: Procrastinating on the dolo, my mojo devastated, Waiting patient, feeling loco, my bro-bros were aggravated, Asking if I was still writing, could I redirect this lightning, If I could somehow realign, redefine, streamline my bullshit into a Titan, But my Zeus was on cruise control, a recluse in my own world, Smoking a bowl, not wanting to be bothered, a father of my own world, I underachieved, in my younger days I used to dream, Wondering if Superman bleeds, afraid to touch that rocket, I post up Hakeem. Chorus: Watching the world spinning, at the top of the 7th inning, Skimming through old loose leafs, losing sleep because I can never redo my beginning, Hair thinning, my d#$% barely stays hard, Days off spent flicking channels, mishandled, in too deep, can't play God. Verse 3: Too reckless, too dark a perspective, my past is checkered, My path is too peppered with my careless lack of effort, in this desert, Two years sober, my lady wants me closer, but my remorse, And poor choices are weighing me down like a boulder, King Kong on my shoulder, So close to reloading this 380, daily my mind is hazy, My patience is shaky, temper hot as Haiti, maybe I lack the stomach... Chorus: Inkling of a comeback, start with one track, Been there, done that, but I got cold feet, Hopefully, this poetry will show me the 1 set of footprints on the beach, The mic booth is my escape, a chance to paint without restraint, Dear God, my sole complaint is that I mastered the phrase "I can't"... #TSH #SOULETRY #rapfame_official #rapfsme_ar_team #LJN