I was not born a gentleman Nor was I trained to be one I was not apprenticed a warrior To defend the queen in times of fear I was simply

In Love with a Muslim Girl As inspired by @Najma_Writes I alight this Poetic Boeing jet in heartfelt style Quick, time guarding, to untie my first luggage Of a love

I sang in pitched voices for you My vocal chords bracing the wear ‘We’ danced in the rain But only I, got wet I wished to buy you the world

Doors to earth now closed Locked, and heart somewhere cold To pluck our eyes a black rose And tears gathering moss. We saddened to write it short, and long For

If Jesus be my center Then I worry not of my dark corners If He be my core My squeaky un-greased parts bother me not If He be my cornerstone

I cannot be you Maybe because my nose is proportional and yours is not I cannot live like you, talk like you or walk your ways Maybe because am unique

Beauty is not in the eyes of a beholder It is simply on the subject Beauty is not relative But it’s opinion is relative to the subject An eye sees

Does putting your feet in water And flapping your limbs in the shallow end Make you an expert swimmer? Does masking your photo with word art And applying numerous filters

I thought I was worthless Until I found a disabled orphan on the streets teaching the word to his peers And no more did negative notes scribble my pad I

Am tiny Yes,  a bead lost into the oblivion I am a fragment One soaked in black tar and difficult to trace I am a broken shell with serrated sides

‘Ng’ombe’ and ‘Kwani wewe ni ng’ombe?’ Were the phrases that filled my ears In my rogue childhood I remember how you pinched my ears When it was reported that I

I was not cuddled as a toddler Never had the latest of brickgames and Rubik’s Cube I never knew what it is to own the latest Nintendo or Wii But