Origins in a Name
This I was told
the name which I hold
is an identity of my own
to stand tall when called upon
to proudly respond
yet could it be true?
By first signs of existence
the original owner was never found
a runaway, neglecting a future
which he helped create
Is that classified as a cowardly man?
I never understood nor do I care
but yet how could one abandon
a future which a name is given?
To have their creators blessing
than destroy the cells which contain past lessons
never stressing but could be destined
to a coward's blessing
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poem by Kelvin Owusu
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Everlasting Lesson
Thirteen years of school
A little more for further studies
General, social, history lessons
Life and street rules
Vice versa, slips, trips many falls
Start or end with the blues
Plenty songs sang relating on the journey
Old school and new school
Many different battles and scars
Same title: The fight.
Plenty obstacles, different bridge destinations
A journey, same struggle: The climb.
Every individual owns claim to their own stories
Same topic: Life.
From birth ‘til death
A constant lesson
Repercussion, obstacles, compassion
Beginning to end, the journey and destination
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poem by Kelvin Owusu
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A Story of a Life, Mine
Wishing for more
knowing I will always fall short
I don't live an unhappy life
just a lonely one
dreams of one day by my side
there she'll be my wife
unfortunately that's all it will be
'a Dream'
I don't live an unhappy life
just a lonely one
I allow my imagination to run wild
to have the simple things in life
a family who care too much
a trusted friend to keep me out
or get me into trouble
to have that girl look at me
the way I look at her
a simple life
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poem by Kelvin Owusu
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Hush Little Baby (Part 3)
Hush little baby don't you cry
I'll be by your side before your eyes
open wide
promises made before your birth
to keep you safe and stick by
Hush little baby don't you cry
I'm going to do the best that I can,
to catch every tear dropp from your eyes
I promise that I will try
to help you grow and allow you to shine
I'll be your home, make you a home
my little angel, you'll never be alone
Hush little baby don't say a word
by the time you're ready to draw your first breath
I'll have the world ready for you
although we haven't met yet
I love you with all that I am
just so you know, I'll make a song cry
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poem by Kelvin Owusu
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Are We A Dying Breed?
Bread winners, protectors
a little description what a man is
providers for all, soldiers for the defenceless
Fall short we have
cowards we've become
the destruction cannot be undone
hostage takers, boogie man we are
Rapist, child molesters
woman beaters and murderers
all that describes the majority that is a few
What real is, is not existent
we are becoming extinct
heroes and the brave
we are but a few yet plenty
cowards over-populate
and we decline
in numbers and in faith
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poem by Kelvin Owusu
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In Poetic
In a way all words are poetic
Doesn't need to be set in any particular way;
for one to stomach it
"It's an injustice I must say
for a mother to never allow her son to play
to disarm belief before it take place
running in an open field of ever green
maneuvering, left and right up and down
with arms spread like flying a plane
a thunderous yell from an obscured mother
child, you have no time to be playing these silly games
make haste
you have studies to attend to"
A poetic line is not just in the mind
it's not necessarily how it sounds or whether or not it rhymes
it's a feeling one gets that sends chills down the spine
simple words of truth and wisdom
is poetic in its own right
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poem by Kelvin Owusu
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Me In Their Eyes
'You're a waste of space
A thief, a waste of time
You're just like your mother
A son of mine wouldn't act like this
Shut up, go away we don't want you
I hate you, you're evil
Hope you die in a ditch
You'll never amount to anything
You're a (negro) , a piece of shit
If you want it, get it yourself
Too bad I'm taking it off you
Maybe this will teach you
No he's not coming, you don't belong
Don't do that, you don't want to end up
like your brother, a nobody
Hello? where is everybody? '
These are just a few words, the words I've heard
the words used to describe, who or what I am in their eyes
my heart is not an icebox, just different
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poem by Kelvin Owusu
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