word.......... metaphorical shit............
yo........
yo........
yo........
It was a night to remember…The night was the ninth of December
Two thousand and four…Hundreds of folks crowded the floor
I stood behind the curtain…Eyes ignited by splendor
Knowing that once it lifted those folks would be mine forever
The crowd was mesmerized from the moment I started speaking
It’s hard to believe that it was me rocking those beats and
Receiving shocking amounts of applause for all of my pieces
That performance was one of the most awesome releases
I’ve ever experienced…Hell…The lighting was splendid
The soundman was outstanding…I almost cried when it ended
It’s rare when every aspect of a show runs as intended
Regardless of the planning something always comes and wrecks it
Yet all my songs connected far more than I expected
Cause’ I’ve seen of a lot of other artists leave their shows dejected
Afterwards…I stood outside with my girl selling tapes
Signing autographs and politicking with the yelling apes who
Just before had egged me on for encores galore
Letting me know that I could make far more on tour
But this was more or less a hobby and I was content with life
Just the way it was…I didn’t want know those endless nights
On the road, never connecting with those I cared for
Those couple hundred folks and the girl I told I’d be there for
So I ventured back to normal life where I belonged but shit
I’ll tell you this…I’ll never forget that night as long as I live
It was a night to remember…A night unlike any I’ve known since
Everyone was cheering me…Except it’s kind of weird you see
I’ve never done a show…And none of that actually happened
It’s just a figment of my mind I sprawled upon a napkin
Truth is I’m a coward…The type who spites his talents
The type who knows he’s skilled…But still dislikes the challenge
Of trying to strike a balance…Between his need to illustrate
The way he seems outside and his innards which are filled with hate
You see I’ve built a gate that only few have infiltrated
To fortify…Any piece of me I feel is sacred
I developed this mechanism as a way to cope
With any being who’s ever seen a piece of me and made a joke
As I aged I found that writing rhymes was therapeutic
I still remember the first rhyme I shared with you kids
I was stupidly scared that yall’ wouldn’t approve it
But when yall’ did I swear that rush was like puffing on two spliffs
Of coke laced White Widow…Addiction was instant
Within a year…I Moved On to the mic’ to get my Groove On
It started out a lot of fun…But as my reputation grew
The critics got louder and I couldn’t take the true reality
That some who listened wouldn’t feel the things I had to say
So I stopped sharing my work…It was tragic to say the least
But lately I’ve managed to get back in the groove
And that’s why you see me hanging around...Yapping at you
The reason I'm dumping my guts on these pages is cause' that one night
I caught the bug as if it were something contagious
It was a night to remember…The sight stopped me right in my tracks
A thirty-something man with a guitar and a mic’
Performing My Songs…I didn’t like it infact
It was god-awful…But still I came home and started to write
He might have sucked but he had one thing that I envied
The courage it took to turn that ‘open mic’ into a blessing
A chance to share his passion…Without a solid backing
Doing his thing despite the fact that the applause was lacking
The moral I took? If you love something than do it
And take your place on stage before it’s too late to pursue it
Because…
"For of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: 'It might have been!'"
- John Greenleaf Wittier
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