Phil Zey BlaQ

As I take a walk through my minds memory bank, and try to deposit my past relationship like always; I came to a quandary. Should I really waste my precious art on a unworthy realists, for example the today's urban female, one with the wool over their eyes, and one whom does not appreciate true beauty?Why should I attempt to express culture, love, peace, and my heart with poetry welded from the refinery I call the soul? I try, and I try, and I try to get closer to those I loved in the past by giving them a very special gift that everyone can not receive. I gave my heart; and it comes back torn four ways and five times over. I gave my thoughts, but even that came back in shambles. Maybe its me, maybe I cannot capture the true essence we call love. If so how can I find a way to harness and control this unknown force that every human being in the world needs, or at least get a taste of it?None the less, I still have to survive, and stay on the path of righteousness. Maybe if I do not search and be patient, I will not come across one that steals or false represent this enigma we call love. Maybe the perfect person would come to me in due time. My angel from the mist of heaven, my Goddess, my Aphrodite, my beautiful Egyptian Cleopatra will reveal herself to me, and then perhaps I can find peace. Should her personality contain a ride or die, artsy Eryka Baduh trait, I would indeed be head over hills. To end my thought I will conclude with a quotation from a very profound person in my life. "Our time of suffering brings the greatest growth." Thank you for reading.