Why is so hard for me to write a poem?
Verse after verse surge through my mind,
Only to be betrayed by their creator
I stare at the light,
Hoping to blind myself from my failure,
Only to, in doing so, think of
Only to think of how desperately the pain creeps into my heart,
Surfing with the fuel of famine and poverty
Of war and discrimination
Of hatred and tyranny.
I think of how
We could be,
How we could be united and whole
Be loved and loving
Be free and fearless
As my eyes start to close,
I think of how every being
Every loved thing
Is a blessing
How we can not doubt that Allah holds our prevail,
And Angela Davis,
And Malcolm X
Strive to fulfill just a glimpse of this paradise.
My eyes open again,
Disappointed that my ideas are not reality
My mind surges again
My creative river freed again by the thought
of a better world
I pick up my thoughts,
Look up at the light,
Feel the angels sending me their hope,
And write to my pens content.