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Invisible Bully

I sit between my parents on their wedding day/ I lay sleep in my mothers belly while their vows and promises whisper to my north/

I am in heaven on earth/ 6 months before my birth/ filled with peace, love, harmony, solitude and warmth/

With the love of both Father and Mother transferred to me/ direct deposit through the womb/

I had a very good start/ that is what one would assume/

Flash forward 4 years/ Now I’m in a fascinating room/ with blocks/ crayons and an etch a sketch/

Pencil and paper already on deck/ Drawing stick figures and simple words/

The passion of a dragon and the swag of a nerd/

Barely 5 now and my Pop’s/ has got/ me at the gambling spot/

A young boy tripping off the women on the calendar laying naked on top/ while my dad is playing poker/ talking and laughing/

Meanwhile my mind is photographing/ The scene in detail so I can write about it in my 30’s and 40’s/

I was just a 6 year old shorty/ when I found myself inside the jazz club watching my aunt Gwen sing/

She was to me in that moment what freedom sounds like when it rings/

From early I noticed the beauty in everything/

Like the rose that grows out of concrete/ But unfortunately the New York city streets/

Did not share my brand of optimism/

Their drums beat to a different rhythm/

Where to be cruel is to win and to love is to play the victim/

At age 7, 8 and 9/ I’m getting my ass whipped/ since I’m way too soft for this street shit/

But even the softest man getting whipped enough will make his ass flip/

So when I got jumped at age 10/ I started to swing back/

It felt good to be on the attack/ or at least it felt better than being scared from all of the courage I once lacked/

In between the ages of 11 and 21/ I discovered that power can be a helluva drug/

But this power did not make me a thug/

This power made me an Invisible Bully/

I’ll elaborate so you’ll understand this fully/

I took the aggression I channeled into an opponent I could box/

And channeled it into the creative energy I had with the etch a sketch, crayons and blocks/

Every time I create I go hard/ Unfortunately when you play that card/

Cats that go soft feel some type of way/

I’ve been learning every chapter of those lessons from age 22/ to the present day/

You know how they do/ They try and belittle you/ to make themselves look bigger/

You’re the one with the passion but somehow they figure/

That you should work in the field for them while they enjoy the comforts of the house nigger/

This mentality won’t allow anyone to grow/

Because it prevents the most gifted from being truly free/ while oppressors make decisions fearfully/

Leaving those who refuse to be oppressed/ with a different kind of stress/ void of encouragement/ segregated from those who uplift/ by gatekeepers who envy those gifts/

So the protocol/ calls/ for them/ to pretend/ not to see/

The Invisible Bully/

Just because someone doesn’t love you/ doesn’t mean you’re not lovable/

Just because you don’t know all there is to know/ doesn’t mean that you’re gullible/

Just because your strength intimidates the weak doesn’t mean you should not embrace your power/

This game is for the strong/ so you don’t have to go along/ with those who make impaired vision/ the fake symptom of a coward/

  • GB

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author/novelist/poet also known as Graffiti Bleu, loves and lives in northern California. He was born in New York City and received some serious game and [learn more]

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