You don’t know anyone from his bodily frame
Until he has the commanding finances
To fund his demons or toys
If we empower the video camera on our thoughts
The devil will be ashamed to watch.
The scariest man on earth stares
back at me every time I see
a mirror. That puts me in check
that anyone can become some-
thing else if there is a need to.
We all carry our hearts, at heart
Each with a different kind of hue,
Black, brown, Milk or white,
Who can see
If we are bad or a little good?
Who? Who knows us better than us.
The one caught at dawn is a thief
and the one that runs, a suspect.
I am just another story
like you are – told in black or white.
black and white. Depending on where.
Good water has no color
Colorless water can be bad
As people, we can only try
We are good just as we are bad
The world paints in light and dark shades
Afraid to tug who is the worst
Good people wear their hearts better
Except, this time, with dinky smiles,
with cushioned horns and matte black deeds
You know no one, no one at all
Because knowing another;
Is knowing the self
Not made to be good or bad
Flawed as people come,
People are people, not good, people.
Because bodies—like everything
brittle—break and people come in
bodies, become eroding riversides
after a cascade of other
people have fallen on them
So, this body is a broken path
it holds no feet cause its ground is the sky.
today fire, tomorrow gold, next ash.
As quickly as we are made, we break
into the same pot that made us all.
While each truth carries dishonesty
We touch in need to connect
But turn around to forget.
Laws, in cause and effect
I am just as bad, as good as I was
As we all were, as we all are
no such things as in the mirror
but such things as we should mirror
We differ in ways we prefer
until our good becomes people