I say this to remind you not to trap
this new love of ours in the box
that your old loves handcrafted.

I do not look like them,

so, don’t look for me in the mirror
of your pain.

He does not let water run freely
from his eyes

because he is afraid that they will
create rivers that will soon form
lakes,

then oceans of pity for him to
drown in.

That is why his cry for help is dry.

Do you know what it feels like not
to know how to do the only thing
you must know to do?

Have you tasted the frustration,
smelled the fear,

or felt the disappointment that cut
off your limbs while you tried to
make your way somewhere?

This is his battle with love;

to want to love,

yet know nothing about it; to be
thirsty for affection, yet not know
how to drink from the cup by whom
it’s served; to be hungry for
consistency, yet not know how to
enjoy the taste of it.

None of us are without a past.

It’s unfortunate that he had been a
dog during the days he was the pet
to his lust,

but that man has grown beyond his
foolishness.

To hunt down and kill the lion

that is climbing out of him

with reminders of what he once
was, is cruel.

As a man graduates from living like
a king to being a king,

please do not unbury his less
honorable days to gain ground on
him.

Are you kidding me?

There are guys out there who will
not find it childish to love another
man’s child.

As a matter of fact,

there are some looking to be more
of a father to the fatherless.

“Conversation with a single mom.”

Brothers,

we too are emotional creatures.

We let anger carry the tone of our
emotions.

We let silence take all of our words,
stealing our voices and desire to
ask for what our souls need.

We let rejection steal every bit of
adventure and risk in us.

Whether or not we admit it,

we are tortoises;

tough on the outside,

soft on the inside, and only move at
our pace.

There is no righteousness in rage;
it only creates fires to burn things
down.

Do not let that rage be your fuel,
it’ll only give you a drive for the
wrong things or help you spark
things the wrong way.

I am not a rebound,

I am the man who refuses to stay
on the sideline when the ball is in
my court.

I actually want to be a teammate
and win with her at this thing called
love.

“I am your last quarter.”

Good men have always existed and
will always occupy space on this
earth.

There will be those who will blind
themselves of reasons to give them
credit,

but the good they bring to this
world will always better the soil of
this planet;

they will always outweigh the bad.

When I limit a woman to ‘just friends,’

they call it being mean.

They call me a puppet of immaturity because
I am letting a good one walk.

They say I am guilty of misleading her,