I feel like I’ve been getting by.
And by and by, I feel like I’ll be feeling like an eye for an eye or a tooth for a tooth.
I feel like I’ll be trading blood, sweat, and tears for only a half truth.
I feel like the dream may have been a bit deferred, and like a raisin I’m shriveling in the sun.
But I can’t find my Harlem- My safe haven where like minds fill each other’s cups to slake the thirst that leaves us ranting and raving.
I feel like were all seeing things a bit different.
With different lenses and prescriptions, living different dream with different descriptions.
I feel like the bottom face on a totem pole- face stretched in stress from all those ahead of me and I long for the day where I would stand tall smiling at all the faces that looked down on me.
I feel like doing whatever it takes to be exactly what I wanna be.
I guess…I just feel like…things feel like…a lot more…like real life.