His subliminal mask,
Clashes with realities of the past.
His present is a gift of sorrow,
Wrapped in patterns of a better tomorrow.
He says to me, that surprises are okay,
but once you've seen a sunrise all the rest are just another day.
I disagree with him, who's artistic smile seems decades old,
but experience is the best teachers were told.
But mister why are your tears a translucent gold?
His reply was that I weep from my soul far beyond my control.
And that hit me like a truck,
For a moment I was stuck.
In his past, his sorrows,
His dreams of a better tomorrow.
So I wept, synchronized cries with this clown whose eyes,
Drowned my soul with pain so old,
Without a word being told I understood his story,
and all his worries.
You see his dreams never became reality,
And when he looks at me he sees what he used to be.
Young, ambitious,
Ignorant to societies traps but suspicious.
Ready to go to war,
Ready to explore.
Ready to spread seeds that grow like trees in a African jungle,
Ready to hand pick soldiers by the bundle.
Ready to fall madly in love,
Ready to be loved madly.
But sadly I say
Things just didn't turn out that way.
I couldn't understand, I was like "clown why didn't you prey"?
What stopped you from being me today?
His reply was "Me and my own self pity".
My procrastination, my hesitation,
My fear of innovation.
Etc. etc. as he went on I began to say,
I've been talking to a stranger all day.
I thought I knew you!
Nigga you fell off your own horse and was scared to get back on,
I'm gone!
I walked away from him smoking like a fired gun,
But in reality this clowns job was well done.
"You'll never ever see any tears from me"
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