Who am I?
I’m not fake,
but I do need refining.
Burying gold while I’m digging for diamonds.
I believed so long that I was miming this mindstate that I’m in
When I was really buffering over time.
Fast forward; I’m all buffed up looking nice
Suited and booted, now I need my shoe shine.
I’m out here trying to practice what I preach
I can’t see it but I know this dream of mine is within reach,
Division, when in unity we’ll find true clarity
In unison, we become more than make believe.
This level up got me feeling like Popeye with my beets
Counting carrots, but my bruddahs refuse to pass out ps
Not realising the value they hold within.
Because at the end that pure need for self belief is no easy feat
And I guess that’s why those who can’t, teach.
Everyday of my existence is a reminder that I will get mine
Bear in mind this knowledge isn’t taxing
Nowhere to charge you that mental fine
Cos’ the time we have is precious
And I know you’re broke, not looking at your wallet but the value of your mind.
What would happen if I took a look inside?
A collection of rarities.
A collection of fakery.
A lifecycle of misrepresented imagery.
A library of debauched reality.
I’m not trying to judge this book by its front cover
But are you living this life you claim you own for another?
Stolen from another page.
You’re helping them along without your due wages,
So now you’re due reparations which you’ll never see
But I’m living for myself and that’s how I know my potentials times infinity.
Writer: Gabriel Amida
Editor: Rachael Air