I see crowds of people impatient to assume the world,
I started to question because I never felt certain,
I learn such a vision of the streets a little more than words,
at the point where language falls away a whole lot of pain.
The myths and realities, crime and popular culture
as they sit and think they cross themselves in fear,
I watched the fire blazing of things past! Who was unaware?
American dream as they putted themselves in danger!
A driveby shooting through the ghetto been close to tragedy,
move from the gates now behind the state another man down,
think not of them the purpose of fighting of the human misery.
For the sake of God or for the sake of personal gain?
Another of the atheist's questions and diseases of the heart,
involved in magic addicted to desires and pleasures, manipulators!
Educated in this cold streets a feeling invoking the past,
let me be true, I flew like a flash, ups! Trials and tribulations.
Paranoia rolling with this one and that one and everything around.
Before I understood this place and my heart's conditions,
much silence on between like a thread to hold in the mind
withholding the tongue not withholding the heart and actions.
Don't talk to talk if you walk to walk who walk the talk?
Actions are distinguished one from the other, another mob suspect,
the menace of the years the poison of the fake,
the knowledge forms the foundation is just a different aspect.
The time resumes by chances what we cannot say or guess,
I try to resist to temptations as men strives for right,
I am struggling and seeking to find the way and truthfulness,
and doors succeed doors of true minds alright.
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Comments about this poem (The World by Muhammad Bilal )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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(27 November 1907 – 18 January 2003)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
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William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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