The Lost Lawyer

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  • Confusion

    The Lost Lawyer

    Ain’t no revolution going on inside my head.
    I ain’t interested in people repeating what I said.
    Sometimes, I just wanna blend in. Damn.
    Can’t I be who I am?
    All my life, I invited other people’s insight to me define me.
    Spent life in a cage with myself far behind me.
    Molding myself, always holding myself under spying eyes to be viewed.
    If only they knew.
    From the time that I first took a breath,
    seems like I’ve tried to be the best…
    for who-for you and you don’t even know my name.
    And knowing this, I still can’t change?
    One day I woke up.
    One day I woke up and I opened my eyes.
    One day I woke up and I opened my eyes and I focused.
    One day I woke up and I opened my eyes and I focused on me.
    I hadn’t done that shit before.
    So you can imagine, when I took the time and woke up
    all my womanly intuitions were broke up.
    I could not conceptualize alone,
    life with all those meaningless tasks of living gone.
    Shit. Sometimes I get tired,
    would be better off fired,
    but that light bill just won’t quit,
    no matter how much I hate this shit.
    And in the meantime, I give up bits and pieces of my mind,
    trying to find
    what never was
    just because
    I know this can’t be the life designed for me
    …cause I ain’t free.
    And no matter how much I try to convince myself
    that what is left of the part of me that life won’t let me be,
    I just can’t breathe.
    I built a prison in my home,
    turned the ringer off on my phone,
    erased myself from evening escapades,
    gave up dreams of Escalades,
    work for the State, just so I don’t have to say,
    “It’s alright if you call me at home“
    cause God forbide, I have a moment alone.
    Whew! When the hell am I supposed to breathe
    fulfill my needs,
    spend time with me?

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    passionsdance commented on The Lost Lawyer

    06-09-2009

    yet again , you have written an amazing poem that I relate to . Always pushed to be what others think is right or useful . Told what to do and how to dress and where to roam. Workin for the man makin peanuts to pay the bills. Supressed by a goverment that only sees their own pockets. Aint no time for you , aint no time for me ... Good poem !!!

    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    aladyinal’s Poems (7)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    The Lost Lawyer 1
    Loving You 3
    I Wish 1
    Somewhere Along the Way 1
    The Love I want 1
    I Can't Forget 1
    I Forgive You 1