Tupacfan & The Desolateone's Poetry Collaboration

My first ever collab, HA! I love it! it still in the works but i thought i create a thread and cast our poetic verbs...

peace.

ya'll can suggest titles for this poem!!

Untitled..


I said open the door, let me in,
wipe my tears, erase my fears,
its been a struggle thru all these years,
I said open the door, let me in,
come take my pain away,
this heart's at dismay,
buried some where out sea,
me tired of all the love pleas,
I said open the door, let me in,
unlock the door,
pick me up off the floor,
tired of this war,
I keep asking what it's for.....

inside is quaint and comfy
the plush furniture is used to tears
the taste puts you on the brink and hungry
no longer afraid of the leers
not the least bit embarrassed to hold stares
levels of conscience where you may weep proudly

Let me talk to you,
see it's been a year his soul departed,
and I'm still stuck on reminiscent,
he was a warrior's descendant,
thru the years, we been abuse and neglected,
parents, we never had that, we were rejected,
mentally, we were all infected,
the streets is all that he ever respected,
sadly, that's where he felt accepted,
his life, they took it,
all my fights with him, I never meant it.
Birth mom's i resented,
birth pops, I disrespected,
my relationships, always been ejected,
my brothers, my only siblings, I miss them,
cancer, I can't fathom,
friendships, fatal and disastrous, I can't have them.
The lord, I scream take me far away, as far as heaven,
I'm not a heathen, but I'm scathing,
like a scavenger on a mission scavenging,
not for wealth, nor fame, nor pity,
but for peace, good health, and food to feed plenty......

of past lives there no remembrance
so is sickness there no hindrance
a tucked away mansion in utopia will be sufficient
no apocalpse predicted or wonderin where all the fish went
hallways with statues of descendents
vanity rooms to collect your senses
it doesnt feel the slight bit like jail, no bars or fences
a place where love has never failed so theres no need for defenses
no urge to wipe at eyes and face covered in happy tears
that can be used for puddles to play with our reflections
or perhaps we can be sado-masochistic
succumb to the hurt and in the pain find pleasure
say we keep searchin for ways out of this desert
thought can build maps and ideas light paths to treasures

take me there, lead me there,
let's cast my tears away into grave stones,
atop of Mt. Haleakala is where'd they'd find us mad stone,
turn off all ya phones,
shhhh...this a duet by pacfan and desoloteone,
my first callab and probably another one,
in the presence we counting butterflies, it's more than just one,
we eating fresh fruits off trees, like adam and eve,
chillin in black sand, i know ya'll can't believe,
i'm not talking Hawaii, im talking Belize.....

miles of foliage
a candystore to herbivores
rarely hear a word of war
we will bury them there
in soft soil
return and see what sprouts
perhaps save some
only for us
so we may celebrate triumphs
or plot a trail back
make a map
incase im struck with nostalgia
so i may not have to reminise of you covered in them
when i became a butterfly and your tears were honey