ForgottenWords.

(sometimes i write things in the middle of the night, and i dont remember writing them)

The pinacle of right

The spectacle of right

Shines a light on that we wish to forget

        open mouthed

        shame faced

We walk with shoulders hunched

        head dropped

        as if it were raining

Softly softly words spoken 

In rhyme and rhythm to confuse

        building beats

        describing mean feats

        onomatopeia

        spitting words

        building worlds

         only to tear them down

Like a sculptor with his chisel

    revealing or concealing

The truth told in form flattery or fiction

Using a certain diction

        the Chicago beat

Words like rain on the streets

        (words like blood run on the streets)

Mean feats of mad poetry

         cannot control or dispel

The feeling or call to action

 I know nothing

        of that which i speak

        i  pass

And life can be difficult enough

Maybe this is not my lesson

        but one from another life time

        if only i could remember

If I am not myself 

    then i will be another

    THE other

Living a new lesson

This life time foretold

I am not yet old.......

*un-edited