A Soldiers Story
They call us “UNRULY”
That’s their discipline. We have our own. I am obligated to protect
Lord if your listening,
Devil… Now I’m whispering
I prepare by Sipping water and gin. Fresh breath and hydrated. You can’t smell my sin. And I don’t wine, but…
One of you… Help.
I ain’t tryna hurt nobody, but I need a release. The pain is unhealthy, but necessary. I’m charged, admitted as a keeper of peace, shaking hands, we squeeze violent. Tugging war, who will submit, I’m not allowed as a black man, going home to a family, or alone, surviving to create is paramount.
So please approach with good energy. Making Heaven on earth, when your thinking hellish, depends on what your selling. That’s what I was taught, but your body language doesn’t translate.
Blacktops become blackboards
My screams during flight, give adrenaline as I move and dodge, slide and maneuver. Claps, pound me to A knee, then both. I finally understand, hate and love are sealed in hugs and fists.
