Is there more to this torment in my own backyard?
I look at the sky and see nothing but the limit,
But I can’t focus on it when it’s covered by dark clouds and a sea of
Imbalance.
Is there more to this discomfort?
When I remove myself from the table,
My hands are still attached to the knife and the fork.
I’m hungry for more.
Is there a better place beyond my own?
I sit and dream about what could be,
Instead of focusing on what is, at times.
But if I think of a place further than this, maybe I’ll reach it.
Maybe I can take the knife and the fork with me,
And feed off of the livelihood of others.
Maybe their meat, rice, and grains will be plentiful for me.
In hopes of finding that there is more.
Is there more than what is happening now?
I mean people always say “everything happens for a reason,”
Some things don’t last all season.
But what is the reason?
Can you tell me?
Is there more?
What do I have to look forward to?
My Black skin offending you?
Is there more?
Please tell me.
Show me.
Preach it to the choir.
Is there more?
When will the good transpire?
But what if right now is good.
Despite all of the heartaches and mistakes,
What if I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
I am exactly where and who I should be.
Yes, there is more,
I can see it on the horizon.
No gloomy day will keep me away.
Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.
There is more.
