By Level9 / Free
Some people see poetry as soft. Passive. Something to read when you want to feel something deep. But I’ve come to see it as something much more—it can be protest, it can be prayer, and it can be purpose.
When I wrote Real Talk, I wasn’t trying to be political. I was trying to be honest. Honest about what it’s like to live in a world where race, identity, and dignity are still questioned. Honest about the grief we carry, not just personally—but collectively. Honest about what it means to be Black in America, to be unheard, or misunderstood, or judged before we ever speak.
These poems are not meant to stir division—they’re meant to start dialogue. They are my way of saying, “This is what I see. This is what I’ve lived. Can you see it too?” Sometimes, the world needs less argument and more understanding. That’s what poetry offers—a mirror and a moment.
But protest alone isn’t enough. It has to be grounded in prayer. In Freedom and Democracy, I tried to balance cultural truth with spiritual vision. To imagine a better world while still acknowledging the brokenness of the one we’re in. Because my hope doesn’t just come from what I know—it comes from what I believe God is doing, even when we can’t see it yet.
So yes, I write poems—but they are not soft. They are sharp. They are strong. And they are sacred. If they make you pause, reflect, or even challenge your own thinking, then they’re doing what they were born to do.
Poetry can be protest. It can be prayer. But most of all—it can be purpose.
