Every June you see the celebration
The outfits and confetti
A myriad of colors that fill every major city
A coronation for all the kings, queens, and everyone in-between
Who dared to walk their own path to freedom

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Dear Mama

Dear Mama, I want you to know that I love you so much.
Through all the hard times, you held your head up.

Dear Mama, you work so hard five days a week.
Just so I could have clothes, a roof over my head
And something to eat.

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Contaminated Dreams

I dream about love, peace and happiness in the same sequence as the devil capturing me, taking my soul before turning 19 years old.
Each morning I awake feeling uncomfortable, my heart being cold.
Dreams are contaminated thoughts, empirical surreal nightmares that your mind bought.
I dream about the power of real love, the kind you will never lose or give up.

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I’m frustrated, I’m mad,
deep down inside I’m sad,
I messed up, I crashed,
I’m really down bad,
I see the light,
it moves further away if I accept my plight
so I struggle, I fight,
I pray that I’ll be guided and be alright.

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Life with Poetry

Your life is the story that I have been looking for,
that voice and vision in which makes me see you in me.

Day after day, year after year
dying to be free, and then you appear
so beautifully expressing the meaning
of divine unity.

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