Sunday Morning Cleaning

By the poolside pruning
Aging and prudent
Soul as old as the hymn I hear in the distance
Sound like a Sunday morning cleaning
I paint the scene like the Sistine ceiling

Seal my fate in an envelope mailed to my sender
Leave it buried in a capsule for me to
Capture when rapture comes
Just tell em please don't spoil the footnotes

Never looked to a tarot for a carrot of knowledge
I know his eye is on the sparrow so in spite of the peril
I am still a pearl inside the hands of the most careful tenured jeweler in pursuit of making pieces of apparel

All of them are herald as the best just like the Harolds that your family frequents I am not a hero just an heirloom
Looming in the air is the thick or resistance calling like the crisp you feel in autumn

Don’t tell me to chill

I feel like a man possessed as of late on a hill
I'd die on it a king before I let em knock my spiel
Rap is not a skill more a gift that I've had the time to congeal into movement
No longer sitting still
At the age of 24, I’ve seen too many homies die young
Futures that was vibrant with they light dimmed

So who am I to wake up every morning thinking time is mine to harness for myself
Like it's not children starving who could probably change the world if just acknowledged
And people still in bondage
That line is an entendre in itself

Distribution of wealth and resources that set us back
A system that's not made for us hate us because we black

My Pops came from nothing so I wanted for nothing
I watched him toil the soil for the generation below him to flourish
Approaching 50
And he still growing

I watch his evolution in awe
Often I stall when I
Think about my progress
So many people counting on me making it
I've taken it to heart just as I know the body that I'm blessed with will eventually turn carcass and a car can only start with the functioning of parts in one accord within the member like a caucus

I know I'm far from flawless
And so I often audit my process

I know a wise man is auditory first
So I immerse into each parable of life rehearsing lesson like a parrot from insight
That's apparent I'm enlightened with by blocking out my sight
Walk by faith until my might become a will
And then my Will becomes my might
And any woes become a wheel in which I steer
Just like a steer until I’m stable
Cavalier in my approach
Change my closet from the catacombs to clear
Storage space
More a base in which I build
Playing billiards when the ball is in my court
Every line I spit is felt earn my stripes and when my suits finally assort
It feels like a Sunday morning cleaning