Some things don’t come from thinking.
They come from somewhere deeper… somewhere older than you.
This piece been following me a long time.
I didn’t sit down one day and decide to write it. Truth is, it showed up on me — same way a memory does when you ain’t looking for it.
I remember being a teenage boy, out there working on a car with my daddy. Grease on my hands, sun beating down, just trying to figure things out. We found some chains — heavy ones. Didn’t look like much to us back then. We used them like they were just tools, pulling motors like we knew what we were doing.
My daddy stopped us. Told us plain:
“Don’t use them. Them ain’t for that.”
Said they were shackle chains.
At the time, it didn’t land the way it should’ve. We were just kids. Didn’t understand the weight of what we were holding.
But something about that moment stayed with me.
Years later… this poem started rising up. Not all at once. Just pieces. A voice. A feeling. Like somebody trying to speak through time.
I came to understand it wasn’t just about chains.
It was about a man.
A man who had been bound for longer than most of us can even comprehend — hundreds of years. 430, to be exact. And this story… it don’t tell all those years.
It tells the last 30 days.
The final stretch before freedom.
The breath before the breaking.
The moment when something long buried starts to rise.
I call it “30 Days.”
And every once in a while… it comes back to me. Different. Alive. Like it ain’t finished speaking yet.
What you’re about to read ain’t just words.
It’s something carried.
So take your time with it.
430 years
30 DAYS , I live there with no mail, no mailbox.
I lose control every time the door Knocks
Freedom say she would be here soon but how long can I hang on. I've got a king size need for love, I hope she come tonight with both hands tied behind her back and I'll be waiting there,
to hold her ,Why Not ? I'm counting the blades of Hope, why?
why not?
You see, once I had a lemony tasty Lust For Love. I had a heated hatred for idle time and no breath to breathe from another life with me, but wait I see a struggle of some kind, this need to be together forever faded away. But now I'm high high upon a hill to pay another duty to my Brothers, Why does it feel so good to be a fool for the length of time that it takes to make things so nice again, But wait the second hand is only an illusion there's no sense of magnetism in this fiery seesaw connection. Oh GOD where have we gone wrong ? But wait I feel a struggle of some kind. Ohhh God give me the strength to be whole again,
Awww these CHAINS they're much much lighter now . They only hurt at that address in my soul where they last were. hurry home FREEDOM , been longing to lay you there for 30 days.