Everyone expects writers to write about tragedy

when it strikes, you know?

Let the newspaper do that

Let writers give you an escape, from all that.

 

That’s my job.

I took that on, when I decided to hold the pen,

Like a sword, where when there are no words

I have them enough to heal a few

Or at least heal the wounds of the ones I know

The ones who read my prose,

And understand the ebb and flow

The ocean will never stop coming  and going

I will never stop writing, I’ll never stop my love

Even in my coffin, I’ll still represent Boston

I am proud of my city,

And the history, all my friends and loved ones

Are here

But I don’t bow to fear.

When I think of how lost I am,

And how far I’ve come,

And how much people mean to me

And how much love I have for people

And empathy, there are no words

To really express,

Man, I am trying to write positivity

But I see the television

Bombs detonating in my city

Images are worth more then a thousand words

How about the wounded and worse?

I’m trying to write a message of hope,

But I see the pain on the faces of those

With none,

You see there is a lot of ugliness in the world

But that’s where I stop.

I just want to write poems about hip hop,

A strong culture of b boys and breaks beats  putting words together

Like a wordsmith, and instead I have these images

that I have to contend with

This is crazy, blood all over the faces

Of people watching races?

I know I have the ear goggles on,

And thinking about the world we live in,

Immersed in the music again,

Leaving the fear, escaping into the atmosphere

Breathing in fresh air,

And I start to think and suddenly, my mind lets loose and I begin

Choking on the fumes,

Of gas explosions, broken bones, lost limbs

Dead children, people racing, stuck at stations

Calling my friend to hear his voice again,

Ten minutes before the first bomb went off

He finished the race

And escaped the place.images-1

And here I am back in the rhythm of the music I am listening

I could listen to the bullshit on the social network

But I am a poet this is my work.

My heart goes out to everyone hurt,

Everyone disrupted and displaced,

Who just wanted to run a race,

A legendary tale to tell their kids,

A day to remember

But not like this. It shouldn’t of gone down like this.

God Bless Boston,

Sleep well.

Loved ones be loved,

Kiss your loved ones

Hold them close,

Cause you only got this one road…

And no one knows how long it goes for…

I love my city, there are no words.

Peace and Love Boston.

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