Tear ducts swollen as I ponder the quote

“With great power comes great responsibility”

As if I was front and center

When Ben Parker spoke those words to his nephew

Leaving me to question my own aptitude

About whether or not this gift, birthright

or inheritance from another lifetime

Gives me authority, establishes credential

for me to educate the masses

To become this conduit for a greater good and higher purpose

By distributing my opinionated facts

With the creative influence bestowed only to me

Like snow I know we’re all alike

but should this flake place himself under the microscope

To be placed in plain view

To endure the scrutiny that associates with recognition

Then it’s the question of power again

Wondering if there’s too much rough

on this diamond to allow the shine

Waiting for the proper cleaning and precise incisions

That will bring forth the proper shape and clarity

Next position

Feeling the need to channel W.E.B.

To ask if I’m talented enough

To move out of the ninetieth percentile

Imagining his answer

If the precedence has been set

Why the indecision on whether to follow

Has gravity’s hold become so immense

That you don’t have the power to rise

Then I’m suddenly in denial

Remembering all the times my grandmother told me

“Don’t nobody owe you nothing”

So why is my debt so much greater

Must I learn from the ignorance and bitter anger of Cane

And become the keeper that Joseph was.