Rasta Israel Uda
Bent on the edge, revived on the inside;
reason can be computed, Lord's blessings is infinite.
Under the darkness of delusion, just wake up and breath high.
In my subconscious mind, I checkmate to rewind;
foolproof, getting in the flow, I scroll,
in timeless processor, soon to be predecessor,
admonish your successor, to shy away from the ways
and means of the oppressor, and reach for the open doors.
Went down memory lane, am gonna share mine;
without headway, we aim to find easy way to same end;
back to base, rundown, underestimated, I contemplated, meditated.
We seek admiration, and put too much concentration;
seeking affirmation, from folks who expect stagnation;
never go extra mile to impress naysayers;
cause when you become depress, they will jest on express;
If you digress in distress; push on,
live for God, and not for the world,
and reach for the open doors.
To dine and wine under their vine;
they make you an offer, thinking you won't refuse;
I no longer conform, cause I was transformed;
Now I reach for the open doors.
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Comments about this poem (Open Doors by Rasta Israel Uda )
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