Mr. Seraphin

Mr. Seraphin
Give me a suit and a bank account...Il make dreams come true.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Sing of Freedom, Think of Love

From Kendrick..... (Freedom 3x and Crash Course*)
Written: March 2013
Completed: August 2013

When the lights shut off and it’s my turn to settle down, my main concern….promise that you will sing about me. Promise that you will sing about me.

I woke up this morning with this… thing on my mind and wrote you this letter so I could tell you. My mental is hurting and no one can hear; hear my pain and fears. But I remember you back when I was slanging, ganging, doing the things that I did, and making enemies every day and the day to day lives I took wearing my cold blues. But I have no one to tell anymore by you, the last of kin and the only one to tell my sins. You won’t judge me though my confessions, or those of my former weapon. Like that day I accidentally shot that kid; The one whose face still throbs on my mind and my mental with his blue shirt jeans and jays, holding that damn pig skin. He was 15, a scholar, a baller. Someone somebody loved; someone they will no longer be able to hug. And it sucks because at his funeral I blended in. And to my surprise I met his brother. His brother sat, sobbed and cried saying it should’ve been he who died. He was the banger, the once upon a time slanger. Yet he was the only civilian to see it all. The only one to view the lead pierce the soul of innocence. And I had no idea he could see what unfolded through the blinds and blinding lights. And I stood there trying to find the words; to say it was me. Through his eyes he cried and he wished it was he who would have died. He even looked at me right in my eyes. As if he could see through my soul, I felt cold as this 7 year old looked into the depths of my conviction, a victim of my hands; The hands that began to make it hard to stand. So I ran; Out of the tomb of my conscious and memories of sin; I ran. And I wouldn't be mad if it was he who grew up to slay me in the fashion his brother was maimed and pained.
And it hurts most because I know you are that to me. You are my brother and to this day I know that if he grew to seek vengeance or to get me I wouldn't feel bad because of the pain I would feel if it was you, and what I would do. I know years have passed from this memory of tragedy but lord knows I want to tell you more of my life on the police force and the memories of those lost through my negligence. Like my son and how he always asked for me to Speak to Him1 and how he…”Pop..Pop..Pop” (Shots ring out)2

When the lights shut off and it’s my turn to fade away, my main concern...promise that you will write about me. Promise that you will write about me.

(Shift) I heard the message you left on my girl’s phone. Aren't I the one that you dogged years ago and left solo sitting alone? Holding memories of flowers pulled to the last pedal, I began to settle and find something that made me sing… “Because…she reminds me of a girl” That’s Nothing Like You.  So today I decided to call you up on the phone and let you know that I hate you for all of what you did to me. And I will not let you mess this up. Because it took me a while to find the origin of my trust and lust issues, the insecurities obtained from a girl that didn't care, now saying she was scared. (Shift) And yes I’m speeding because of how mad I am at the flicks, flips, and stitches I now wear to keep my heart patched from your misery. I’m shifting gears unafraid of death; except the fact that I have been saved and healed by a new love, a new girl, my new world (Shift). Someone who accepts me for me, and has stitched me back one thread at a time with patience and love. And the nerve of you to leave a message on her phone, pleading and begging, trying to convince me to come home. Why…(Shift) How can I tell my new world that I still have feelings for another girl. I can’t because I can’t bear the feeling of losing her soul healing, and yet I know a void still lies because of something that was unrequited, a tragedy already decided. So I will drive until an answer comes from the heavens above or on this road on how to keep strong and not fold. I will wait until an answer comes for me to take control….of this situation and make a decision. But I can’t because of this turn; I can see my answer begin to unfold but damn this tight turn. My answer is that.... wait! I’m swerving and drifting, I losing control, and now all I feel is the car roll and roll and roll and roll and roll…..

When the lights shut off and it’s my turn to die today, my main concern....promise that you will think about me. Promise that you will think about me.


-M.Seraphin

*Still being written
Author Notes (To understand the history) 1. Read poem Speak to Me 2. Read poem Freedom Freedom Freedom

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