I’ve been told the scenes seen in the seams of my dreams weren’t always what they seemed. Not meant to be seen while eyes were open and reality was awaken by the light skies and suns bright eyes. Said the clouds would hug slugs of the raindrops they shot at the smiles of bugged eyed little children chasing dreams of making millions. Turning pennies into ideas into billions, yet your society civilians still label us dreamers.
And no matter how many doubters we turn into believers, they just don’t seem to believe us. So, I guess to achieve success art isn’t smart. Parents tell us follow your heart, as long as you become a doctor or fire fighter. But my fires brighter when I attend local open mics with the desire acquired to inspire writers. But they’re just words…that stuffs not important. Dreams are just dreams…keep that stuff dormant.
Never fall asleep…that’s when your reality becomes distorted and you must quickly abort it. Before it grows old enough to know enough; anything is possible. Murders seem to be unstoppable since the creators of these artists kill their creativity of thee artist. Now, it becomes the hardest to harvest the darkness used to shed some light but who becomes responsible?
Who creates these obstacles that seem to be impossible? If God gives gifts and people prevent possibilities, then your mind must manifest miracles. It really isn’t that difficult to keep faith in your God since you know deep down inside your success is supplemented in your spiritual. Dreams give you a visual but the minds in these types of people rewrite the sequels forcing thoughts to be too typical.
See, I can sense your hearts taste my words but I can feel your eyes can’t hear my lyrical. And you question why I dream; well I question why you sleep. And it kind of concerns me how you cowards are so content with counting sheep. Then got the nerve to sleep on me like you’re not sleeping on life. I can barely sleep through the night. Without having my insight invite the spark to ignite harsh remarks shot from the darkest parts of your hearts.
But I’ll use your negative energy to build my legacy to create memories that will last centuries. I don’t recite poems. I sing melodies. These aren’t just words, these are lyrical remedies. But y’all don’t hear me. Someone once told me doubters are just believers who fear me.
I mean, it’s a possible theory, clearly. But I don’t even keep people near me who can’t help steer me in the right direction. So, before you mention what I can’t do with my art, how about you start with your own reflection. I use my words as my weapon and I only need about four minutes a session. So, take heed to what you need in this lesson and I might be the exception to your perception.
This isn’t poetry. This is progression. Most of these “success stories” are all the same. More about counting dollars, than counting change. I guess it’s more important to make cents than to make sense. Or maybe just easier that way so people become too complacent. But lets face it, not everyone carries the same scale to rank greatness.
Because the change I have has a higher value than what’s displayed on your bank statements. But who I am, but some random little guy just rambling about who, what, where and why you should remember me. Just remember me, as an artist that was never afraid to dream…
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About the poet:
My name is Luis Marrero and I am a twenty-three year young starving artist. “Starving” is usually associated with “I haven’t made it yet”. However, “starving” in my case symbolizes my hunger for success, since success has no limits, my hunger will never be satisfied.
Poetry has always been my passion and I have always dreamed of being a busy man. With my passion and dream, I used hard work and dedication as a catalyst to create my reality, Voices In Power.
Voices in Power, “We are only heard if we speak” is a group of artistically inclined individuals reaching out to our local communities in the South Jersey and Philadelphia area.