Your words.

Equally inspiring and motivating. Quite honestly, it’s one of the only things that match your beauty. But those words. Are like my favorite song. Playing all day like kids did in the summers when I was young. And those same words bring me from the dark like the trains do at the end of the tunnels. Before it enters the sky like.. Like.. Let’s not think about that, quite yet. Let’s get back to those words that caress my soul. Caress it like the massuse at the parlor as I lay relaxed. Wonder if it comes with a happy ending. Cause only time will tell. Those same words could make a baby smile. And also those words can make a man cry. One sentence. Mangos and Strawberries. Next one, Onions. Fresh onions. But those onions aren’t all bad. They season those words. Sauteed never raw. But the flavor you couldn’t get in a bag of Sour Cream and Onion. It’s too rich. It belongs in the finest of meals. Those words should be served only to the highest in charge. But somehow I get to read them.

Little old me. Regular old me. Lucky old me.

Cause those words are the same words I hope I read on the rocking chair. While watching the kids play. As the steaks sizzle on the grill. As I watch the trains enter the night skys. As I watch the massuse head home after a long day while pushing her baby. Mixed with smiles and cries. Those words. 


Wonder how it will be when I hear them. 


Author: Kareem Robinson

Just a 80s baby with a dream. Bare with me as I get there. Born in NYC, Raised in Hip Hop. Follow me on Twitter or Instagram at : @PresidentRemo

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