Combustible

 Blood against bone

I'm home alone

Breast bone pressed against chest

I'm under too much pressure

Listening to the drone

Of my voice again

I can't pretend

This shit has gotten any easier

I said the right thing

To the wrong people

At the right time

Wait!

I said the wrong thing

To the right people

At the wrong time 

Wait!

I said the right thing 

To the right people

At the wrong time

Wait!

Dammit

I said the right thing

To the right people

At the right time

But they just didn't want to listen

So God said

Wait!

Ain't nobody got time

To wrestle with no Angel's today

We live in a generation

Of voicemail conversation

And text message penetration

And absolutely no regeneration

I said we live in a generation

Of voicemail conversations

Of text message penetration

And absolutely no regeneration

So where is the sensation?

For this video game nation?

This I got to have it now generation?

We waving goodbye 

To our future credetation

Are we listening in

To our television waves?

Do we believe our paper souls

By money will be saved?

What is the value 

Of our families love?

What is the reference

To this Heaven up above?

What if anything

Do we believe holds weight?

All this emptiness in our lives taking space

What kind of nutrition

Are we putting on our plates?

What kind of mirror

We wanna see on our face?

Do we believe we are valued

By the things that "they" say?

What kind of kicks of kicks we gonna rock today?

A wise man once told me 

Something profound

He said my poetry spits the same

In heels or slides

And since then I knew 

He was on my side

Funny thing is many people love to judge

Not by how hard your work

Or how good you love

By by how you look or 

What clothes you wear

How cute your face

Or perfect your hair

But if the eyes are truly the windows 

Of your soul

Shouldn't they be the judge 

Of what you know?