man's promises

part one of the seven part series: man promises, God disposes

what is a lie in a sunday suit?
a devil that’s dressed like he tellin’ truth.
what is a man who can barely feel?
a king with a crown he’s scared ain’t real.

what is a voice that don’t come from God?
an echo from pain that ain’t fully unthawed.
what is a friend that retell your tale?
a master manipulator learnin’ to sell.

what is a woman with eyes like flame?
a test? a touch? a temporary name?
what is a compliment tied to control?
a chain on your worth with a loop in the soul.

what is a post with a million likes?
a digital shrine for a dimmed-out light.
what is a crash-out for status and fame?
a body dropped for a verified name.

what is control in a lawless world?
what is the truth when the lie’s unfurled?
what is a therapist supposed to do
when i say i been sick and the pain feel new?

......

i went and got that benz ’cause my pops got a benz
he ain’t give hugs, just the keys to the end.
he ain’t show grace, but he showed the gleam
so i ride with a ghost in the leather and steam.

old girl got a new whip, so i upped my pace
put the pain on lease just to keep my face.
tryna outrun shame in designer seats
with a grin so gold but a heart that leaks.

found out i’m sick and it wasn’t in the plans,
doc said the name, and my world just ran.
weight fell off like the ones who switched,
blood in the sink, and my prayers felt split.

what is a gun in a lonely hand?
a voice for a boy that ain’t understand.
what is a prayer when the healing’s late?
a call to a God that you still debate.

what is my flex when the love feel fake?
what is success when the soul don’t wake?
i laughed too loud just to clear the fog,
i stunted hard because i feared my flaws.

used to fix heartbreak with a body or two,
played therapist with lips—never healed by truth.
every kiss just echoed, every moan just masked,
soul in her hands, just a moment that passed.

met old girl in the h where the bass shook the rain,
she wore trauma like pearls, drippin’ in pain.
she said, “you sad too?” i said, “sad with taste,”
so we danced through grief in a private space.

fell out of love, but we told our truths,
swapped scars like stories, like spiritual proof.
my thoughts said to me just stay out of touch,
i said i’m used to it
my house don’t talk too much.

now i’m stitchin’ this family cloth,
but we pull so tight that the thread gets lost.
still gifted my godson when the bag came in,
didn’t post, didn’t boast—just blood, no spin.

still hear God when the static get loud,
still bow my head when i make him proud.
my heart don’t break, it flex, then yield.
my soul got scars that the Lord done sealed.

what is a man that the world can’t fix?
a mirror cracked.
still prayin’ for a glimpse.
still askin’.
still askin’.
but now the silence hums like answers.

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i don’t own the rights to this image. don’t sue me gang.