The Truth
Written July 1, 2011
The truth has been kidnapped
Abused and transformed
It is drifting in chaos
Lost in a whirlwind of human error
Of human arrogance
For him…
Truth is trampled beneath a muddy sneaker
Which trudges through the streets of a ghetto
Unaware
Not knowing that the foot within it
Could belong to greatness
All he sees is a false reality
A life filtered by a project window
Teaching him that a hand grips a gun
Much better than a book
Suffocating bars become his future
They choke his dreams and leave them
Beaten in an alley way
His truth is trapped
For her…
Truth is manipulated
Lost inside the mind of an ignorant girl
One who thinks opening her legs will set it free
But it is smothered
Being crippled by a host of men
One of whom injects her with his venom
Bringing life to her equally as ignorant,
Soon-to-be fatherless, child
Oh, if only she knew
That between her thighs
Once lived a prize
But she was so lost
Attacked by the reality she created
Her truth is mutilated
Left pleading for life on a lonely sidewalk
Her truth is helpless
And for us…
Truth is incarcerated
Watching helplessly as media frames it
As hip hop disguises it
As history ignores it
As people neglect it
Truth is pleading
Praying that the few who know it
Tell its story
And set it free
The truth is out there
Search for it diligently
For it is hidden from plain sight
Those who find it
Happily reap its reward
So search for it
For the sake of yourself
Search for it…
I wrote this poem years ago during a time in which I was seeing a lot of sadness in the world. I was going into my final semester of college and the bulk of my studies required me to take a look at the world around me and observe the people in it. Subsequently, I began to observe what was portrayed as reality within the environment I lived. I was seeing a lot of single mothers and a lot of nonchalant fathers and, sadly, this was the societal norm. In fact, it was accepted. At a certain point, hearing one of your former classmates was pregnant became less and less of a shock. Hence the characters within my poem.
You are the truth you choose to believe. No one can tell you what is true about yourself or how you should live. You create what is true to you, not anyone else. But sadly, there are people who choose to believe something that is true to others but that is not true to themselves, much like the characters in my poem. If you become complacent enough to accept a place’s societal norm as a standard of living, then you have already failed. For a long time, I was miserable. I was living in a place where I did not feel I belonged and it was a constant internal battle to figure out where I fit. It wasn’t until college when I was exposed to people from different societies and cultures whom I identified with that I realized I was not meant to fit where I was. I was meant to be one of the ones who stood out. I was meant to be an example.
So here’s what else I realized. You are one of 7 billion and the fact of the matter is that you are not meant to be like somebody else. You may find people who share the same ideals or qualities as you but that does not mean that you are 100% like that person or that what works for them will work for you.
People go searching far and wide for the truth, thinking that it is hidden in pages or documentaries or theories and, to an extent, it is. Something in either one of those things may reveal something to you never thought about before and shape how you see things. But the fact of the matter is, the bulk of what is true is inside of you.
People search for true religion, or the true way to live or (the ever so popular) true meaning of life. Well the answer is: you have to create it based on what you know about yourself and what does not compromise you as an individual. Some people may not understand it but not all are meant to.
Be who you are and be unashamed. Be different. Be unique. Be anything! As long as it is you and no one else.
