Pristine

You were never jaded
Never worn down
Or torn after all these years

Artwork standing intact 

Workmanship like you is slowly fading extinct 

Ever since sixteen candles decorated your cake

You’ve reminded me of the Sistine Chapel

You were pristine battles where bullets of sweat and paint landed exactly where they were meant to.

Finding a frame to match is humanly impossible,

So your figure is Gods doing.

And nothing this breathtaking should be stationary.

Which is why you’re never content. 

Morning Coffee

You made me forget

Rhythm

And 

Rhyme
Formation and syllables

Keeping

Thought

Aligned
Learning from a queen 

Got

Information
This realist was ready to reenlist

With my miss I’ll walk confidently through 

all levels of our awaiting inferno
My morning coffee

You give me a reason to wake up,

But you make it that much harder to get out of bed

Wise Decisions

Taste is relative. 

Life gives a perfect balance of lemons and sugar, you have to create your own juice.

A man between life and death, when given more than enough rope to survive will make his own noose

Choices can take your last breath.