Nothing builds a foundation in a journey better than a blueprint. But not quite the one
you have in mind. I'm still talking bout design but its the sign of the gift to uplift.
Mix in a fifth of passion and drive with scars and verse creating a divine the blew
print blessed by God.
The lightning rod be the stage
And I bring the thunder off the page so my brethren
Can Gage how your souls spine needs to be touched.
Its a bit much when I can bleed life's imagery onto mental canvases within this room
using my blew print tongue.
So I'm glad I rung these words from a prophets tormented temple turning the
subjective into the objective. Spending the past 6 yrs rearing a blew print you and I
can learn from.
6 yrs to earn some to keep moral bank accounts in good standing.
6 yrs losing voice, friends, fam and dragging these vagabonds called bones around the
country,
Like who this Honest Abe tip??
Aspiring to inspire my community to get a grip;
And stop sipping force fed kool-aid.
Spitting murial collages to heal is my priority.
My pigmented skin re-insures i must speak in color
Because no one feels transparent wordplay.
Don't matter if your instrument is the form of lips
Or like my mans Jimi's guitar riffs.
My blew print is this signature i want you to see when im gone.
My blew print will be the rhythm man walk to in nature's song
My blew print can burn love scriptures of solace instead of hate as Psalms.
Launching lethal loogies filling half empty cups
Of character to see the whole picture.
Understand, once my blew print is set in the wombs of minds and hearts
No power rivaling the almighty can ever sever
The truth's existence!
“Honest Abe” Abraham Benjamin [© 2013]
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