Friday Morning. August 2018.

The mass media laughs at black drama

The vultures make profit off black culture

As my mind ponders

As my thoughts wander

I wonder

Is it fate I’m blessed with this curse?

That I’m statistically gonna end up young in a hearse?

On this day, I see 25 in 28

A daze I find myself in

Only leading to more questions

Will I ever become a success?

Will I ever witness my wife in that white dress?

Will I find my purpose in life amidst constant duress?

Will I find myself blessed…

Or succumb to the stress?

I can never gauge the daily 24

Is it God or death knocking on the door

Whether I answer or not

It moves along the plot

To this soap opera of mine

Merely living to die

- TG3

Cloak. September 2015.

The clouds in the sky darken their moods

The sun bids us farewell

As small droplets of rain began to fall,

I wonder

Is this God changing his wardrobe?

Pulling the hood over his head

To keep us from seeing the tears

That fall from his face?

- TG3

how many times are you gonna re-do this?

As many times as I see fit.

For the last 2 years.. my inspiration for my writing has dwindled considerably. My idle time has been spent doing things I probably either shouldn't, or in the right state of mind, wouldn't. Needless to say, this is my craft, and my reason for still being here on this earth. For as long (or as little time) as that may be, this is why i'm here. This is my reasoning. This is my calling.

So it's about time I answer the damn phone.



- TG3