Good Guys Finish Last

You wanted a man that could stand up to your childish behavior, at the same time while having a child like nature to spawn laughter

You wanted a man to treat you like a Queen, whether you were Elizabeth or Victoria was to be determined

But you undermine him for the brute that makes you succumb to his action, wish, and desire

Tears flow from your eyes like an open faucet and you seek sympathy, I hate to be the pallbearer of reality as I bury your sorrows…

But this was a grave that you dug…

You see... It’s never quite good enough for the girl who plays Cinderella to be captivated by her Prince Charming

She’d rather be Bell and forever be stuck with a Beast…one that can’t comprehend the ways of taming a shrew

He then untangles your knots and leaves you loose…just another screw, missing a few…of her senses, but that’s just my consensus

It seems all the things you seek in your dreams can be reality, yet you bargain with Satan to change a man that can’t be changed and you call it…Love

For him I would keep the L word and say he lust to steal your most coveted treasure

But what do I know, I’m just a man and I’m sure you will say you know him better

You said you wanted someone to cherish you and make you feel warm, somehow you’ve settled for cold and bitter to satisfy your appetite…

The taste must be phenomenal for this anomaly to still occur. I must correct myself …this is now the trend

And where you could be his Pocahontas and he your John Smith, you refuse to meet him just around the river bend

Still fixated on squeezing every last bit of Right out of the Wrong one…your sorrow and pity has just begun

Your perfect picture isn’t so picture perfect, you lack the realization that you can’t play God and perfect the one that isn’t meant to be in the picture

Mr. Right fades to black because he lacked the height, or perhaps the complexion…You’d rather dabble with being someone’s nothing, than being his something…yielding to your stupid mentions

And where you seek the truth couldn’t be any further than Utopia, but the lies begin with not I, or Him, but rather you

Jedi mind tricks played on the One seeking the One, by Oneself

Can’t ever progress into the future, still stuck on the levels of hell you've created in your past… this is why Good Guys finish Last

Conflicting Thoughts (Black is Beautiful)

It’s a routine
This Struggling Start
Wake up…
Walk Downstairs…
Sit in the kitchen making the same ol’ breakfast that is never desired
My Day, transpires…
From none other than
Thoughts in my head
Spread on a white page…inspired by the way I was taught in first grade…
I read…
Trying to make sense of this book…published by my mind
Illustrated by the media
…Fill in the blank…
My Black is Beautiful because…
BING
…Shit
The Toaster goes off…just another day
Belly full of burnt eggs and black toast yet…
I’m suppose to believe black is beautiful…
Once again, convinced otherwise
It’s only as attractive as it’s demise

The time of day where the owls sing, spawns the birth of ill thoughts
But come time for sunrise to my surprise it shines bright… On my Regal Skin
Gradients and Shades of the finest textures
It seems God hired the most seasoned crafters…when he made Us…
Tailor-fitted to endure all levels of hell, and still I excel
And in my dullest form I am brighter than a prism
Even though my mind has been sentenced to death in societal prison
Still…Black is Beautiful

Mentally incarcerated…
Sentenced to Life…
Free me from… My Self…My Thoughts
My Skin…That’s Dark…
My Hair…It’s coarse…Us, Africans, were cursed
With a blessing in disguise
But why must my beauty hide
Help me to understand this Black without eyes

Words from the blind, when your eyes are closed darkness is your guiding light
And no man can truly define the meaning of beauty
For with his words the term has already been tainted, defiled, and irrelevant
But when I look at your skin, I find the relevance
Your “Nappy” hair is as enriched as Jerusalem
Eyes tell the stories of Kings and Queens
And the blood of Scholars flows through your veins
Yes, you are Black…In Fact…
It is a color only fit for those who have transcended space and time
… and survived

Remember this; under your flesh exist the “whiteness” of your soul that hides
Which means that your regal exterior is a symbol of pride
Wear it like you wear your clothes…protect it like you do your heart
I suffered the pain of these conflicting thoughts
So you could understand beauty is not seasonal
With these words, my seed will know that being Black is nothing less than Beautiful


*Collab poem by Myself and Deb Martins