I've scribbled out expectations all over this place

with woes and foes and troubles twisting my face

Everything I see is doubled, tripled, or bent

I make a little money, but my job keeps me spent

I've had a few lovers, some of my best memories

But when I open up to my friends it's all complaining

What happens next? I wish I had a summary

Or at least a place to stay cool 'neath this summer heat

Made a few new friends, inherited a family

People that I love to see and cherish inherently 

One whispered my name and passed a note to me

It was an invitation for a lunch meet and greet

Still, I was troubled because the girl I'd been seeing

Was conjuring strong feelings, but my feelings were fleeing

We were a match made on Tinder with a solid first date

And though she was lovely, I still loved my last mate

Whom happened to call me one day at the lake.

She told me she was ready to put it all away

Her  counselor said this, and her counselor said that

I told her that I missed her and wanted her back

She agreed it was worth it, we'd give it another try

But I now I think she's with some other guy

I try to stay cool when females get me tripping

So my pipe remains lit, my paint steadily dripping

Mr. Young

You're a hard hearted little boy

with a harsh and critical attitude

You whip your little yellow tongue

snapping out small, subtle insults

and poison the air

You'd like to think we're not similar

but, brother we are.

Though a canyon separates our cultures

we are bound by nature,

mother fucker.

Frankly, I don't like you much

and that's what I like about you

That you could care less and never more

keeping your nose up

while you look down

You dress as sharply as you speak

and sometimes just as colorfully

But I hear you mostly talk about

"Weak shit" and "rude shit"

and that is you

I heard you bragging about yourself

how you stay away from outer influence

yet you criticize how your brothers live

and offer your best advice

behind their backs (hypocrite)

I appreciate your existence

the gift of lessons you bring

that I was sort-of once like you

except taller, bigger,

and grateful of most things

Contenders

I see what you're doing

You've found something new

You're learning how to flip your craft on its ear

and explore new territory.

And I'm proud of you.

I'm proud for you.

I'm inspired.

I'm envious.

It's so easy for you to share your work

You can just send a photo and wah-lah.

You're getting the credit you deserve.

You're getting up and out on the streets

littering the walls with your creation.

It's brave, it really is.

Watching you has helped me expose my fears

and in that exposition my goals are revealed.

There is much I have to share.

There is much work I have to do.

We are very alike, yet so different.

We both want to succeed!

And I am proud of you for wanting that!

We are both contenders fighting a similar fight

in a world riddled with wars of varying nature.

I am doing my best to be a friend.

I am doing my best to grow.

There's so much I want to say,

so much anger and hypocrisy waiting to be exposed,

but things of that sort are better forgiven and half-forgotten.

Because no matter how angry I get, or how jealous I become,

I love you, I care about you, I've got your back.

This is my gift to you.

It's small, but like the passion you have in craft

and in creating envy, 

it grows.