Bed Ridden

I don’t want to get up in the mornings, I keep resetting the alarm clock.
My mind gets tired as soon as I process today’s thought. Unhappy environments drain every inch of me. Destiny and fate assure me that this is not where I’m supposed to be. I stand in line to punch in, and for six hours straight I die within, and can’t settle with the fact that tomorrow I’ll do it all again.

Systems set up that fail to irrigate the proper nutrients that help the crops grow. Systems set up that lead from inner city and end at death row. 

I was hired to teach daddy’s girl and momma’s boy, I was hired to teach America’s youth. I don’t desire to teach a biased curriculum, I don’t desire to tie educational lies with historical truth.

And that’s why I don’t want to get up in the mornings, I keep resetting the alarm clock. My mind gets tired as soon as I process today’s thought.

And this economic depression, puts all optimism into regression, slowly turning into suppression of I want, I had but it exists no more so I can’t have, joy turned to sad, the speakers voice suppressed in the pad. Drowning in the ink of the pen, which has a mighty position on the lives of men. But nobody smart ever reads, In their minds they plant no wisdom seeds, but live life on the basis of what they see.

And might they see me? A great leader I could be, but I don’t want to get up in the mornings, I keep resetting the alarm clock. My mind gets tired as soon as I process today’s thought. And all while I’m bed ridden, my message shall remain hidden.

Until I choose to get up and put on my shoes, and then walk a mile down the road of life trying not to hit snooze.

(Circa April 2009)