Artist JoeMac | Poetry Vibe
Artist JoeMac
This poet practices good karma and posts comments 19300
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Bring me to your city to perform. Book me thru my website, www.authorjoemac.com

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Perfection

CATEGORY

life

Views: 213

Its make or break as I take in a breath and cloud my mind, thinkin how can innocent rhymes be so powerful in their form, I mean, a word is just a word, its only made meaningful by the tone of the mouth that plays its instrument proper, serenading crowds as their responses are loud claps or silent shockwaves that can be felt by no one but the artist themself, a representitive of me as I speak, it is only one of my many sides, cause as I ride from my place of sanctuary back to my permanent sanctuary, I slowly transform into that man, simply Joe, relaxed like five O ones, I unlock the key to enter into what I call my palace, jumpin on my bed, thoughts in my head of how I can get better, cause I hate to fumble and stumble over my words, and I know it sounds obsurd but perfection is my goal, my soul is embedded in this to take people on mind trips, giving them unpaid vacations to places of where only deep thought can take you, I sleep angrily even when I know I've done good, because to be content means you dont want to get better, I write myself a letter saying you will never be good enough to match those who told me so as a child, I've fully forgave them, but they are still my fuel, not to prove them wrong, but to prove myself right, cause after a night where I write, I get up to sacrifice my life for a country that doesnt want me, but I do what I have to do to make sure my kids and wife will never have to worry, see at first this was all about me, but with maturity I realize, this is for those that havent been created yet, so I inject myself with will power through talkin to myself, letting myself know you got this, and still, sometimes, I think its not good enough, I'm tough on myself, cause no one else will care like I do, and inside this hard shell is a man who is subject to feelings, even when it may not seem that way at times, ask my grandmother how many times I have cried to her for my shortcomings, and she aint even here, all I can hope is that her ear is listenin through the angel's harp, I finish what I start, whether its my words or my relationships with people, I put my lady on a steeple to look up at her, and even when I may not get the statues position, I can always tell that its throwing me construction to build me up and not tear me down, I put my brothers at a level thats equal, because I can only trust a man that can look me in the eye, see when I die, I'll finally be satisfied, because through death, I will have left with what I came in this world with, and that's the knowledge of knowing what I stood for

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