Soapbox

By Tyrone Purcell Roundtree Sr.

Created by a vision to the philosophies and ideas
of Tyrone Purcell Roundtree Sr., this unique book
compacts more than 40 poems from the award
winning author. Personally selected and introduced
by Tyrone Purcell Roundtree Sr., this book educates
the minds of Luke warm individuals straddling the
fence in between good and evil. This book focuses
on the community, street life, faith, knowledge,
and turmoil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 9, 2008
• ISBN: 9781469115481

Book preview

Got A Moment?

Poetry.com finalist

God dislike’s the slothful but we work so hard

I think people forgot where they came from

Because once you made it, why share some.

You can watch a man lose his mind on stage

Just him and a microphone,

After all the laugh’s and the scream’s

What’s it like when he return’s home?

Do he have mouth’s to feed?

Not sure if he’s even loved from his wife,

Did he make enough money tonight

That when the kids go to sleep,

Him and his wife wont fight?

You would expect him to live

How his joke’s make’s us feel.

After show’s he circle’s his block five time’s,

Parks outside of his house and cries joyful tear’s,

Not only do I respect the man because he’s a comedian,

Take’s care of his kid’s and love’s his wife,

I respect this wonderful man,

Because even in a storm he can thank God twice.

Enigma

Poetry.com finalist

I found the key, to a mystery,

Even my ancestors, thought it was history,

Presidents, scholars, and infamy,

It flows like water, in the Mississippi,

Powerful,

Makes me stare, without blinking,

Dazed,

Like standing on the titanic,

Unconscious that I’m sinking,

Shoulders broad, chin high,

Am I dreaming?,

Gods mind, is like the distance,

From the earth, to the heavenly region,

This mystery no man can create,

Like the particles of blood,

Or the skin on our face,

I cant describe the scene,

Or when it took place,

What I can reveal about my mystery,

Is that it took love, and faith.

Darkness is Pain

Poetry.com finalist

Night, Is heavier then the day,

Makes me feel lonely, Ashamed,

Where did my light go?, Admiring its rays,

Traveling down the road, To its grave,

But like Jesus, Resurrected,

In the early hours,

Another time zone, Stole my light,

So my darkness haunts them,

Do they feel my pain?,

So heavy it makes them sleep,

Somnolent I guess,

I’m fooled by rain clouds following me,

If darkness over powered the day,

Would it be cloudy?,

Or is it you, Awaken to devour me,

I only dream, When pain is present,

I guess its just a nightmare,

Fate comes in clouds,

Full of anguish, and dark snares.

Thought Process

January 15th 1985

What have we learned from our ancestors?

Blacks had it hard enough.

Slave ships filled with generation’s,

Semen ready to grow, At the time . . . ,

What they dreamed was not advanced enough for our reality.

We are lazy,

Stuck with the same moral technicalities.

The poor is still poor,

The rich forgot where they came from,

These days we have drug’s to cope with stress,

We’re killing ourselves what was our ancestors antidote,

So many suggestions and complaints,

We carry guns for protection,

Government send us to war if we die we’re considered a number.

I’m not sure how racial the situation is but . . . .

Widow’s and mother’s describe them more then that.

I can’t lie I concealed a