Idle. [Poem]

Idle.

what a very odd title

for this poem

not the American TV show,

I mean idle

like, alone

might not be ALL alone,

or in the physical at least,

I go to work and all

and when I’m home,

“some” company

nor in the spiritual,

the physical,

feels so pretend..

as I

hang on by a thread

to

Isaiah

41:10

why I feel alone?

because not many comprehend,

being intentional,

but empty

on receiving ends

or when folk say “I feel you dawg”

............

that term

grazes [past] my head,

to feel alive

with a smile so wide

but deep inside?

sometimes, pretend

or maybe it’s the moment

shares in life,

both good & bad...

can’t front, I do embrace

until reality

pulls me back

still, I feel so thankful

always grateful

for what I have,

while learning how to do

whatever I should’ve learned

from my dad

To be heard, felt, and seen,

empathized and understood,

to scrubbing dirt clean

my bad habits,

and my inner hood

but good or bad,

I’m good.

with my head up,

I keep it rollin’,

since life’s a game

& this a system

here God,

YOU do the controlling

for better days I’m hoping,

not depressed

just more reserved

but working

while I’m learning

sometimes

idleness is potent

idleness is a lane

with no drivers, but a blindfold

you driving straight

don’t crash no where,

& help those on the side road

my blinkers signal

that I’m on the exit

to the high road

where reciprocity’s recycled,

and understanding's

got me mind-blown

I then

slowly approach the exit

& switch gears on a high note

but conditioning

reroutes me

back on a road

where there ain’t no rivals.

That’s idle.