Pocketful of Glory


This pretty cross covers my face because I’m no longer ashamed

It’s all because I was raised in the glory of what it means to gain

I couldn’t bare the thought of what it meant to be the same


Same as others, same as wretched alleys reek in pitiful poverty

My life is such as winning the lottery, I’m on a mountain that’s godly

Holy realm of every decision that has cultivated a vision of bounty


Through every challenge the course of love has been written

A pocketful of love to give out like drugs, shake and hug


I’m here as I toss my head back and forth in a gesture of what it means to adorn

Love lore is my honor draped in diamonds, the rhymes of my manifesto

A decision of significant proportions is my successful now


As I walk into this condominium of pristine glory I tell my story


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