Tag Archives: hurt

Minority Report


I hear they put death to people like me.
they wonder why we fight
conditioned to see with eyes wide shut
closed case-black,
is what they think of me
a color that has deemed me less than a person
oh beautiful candy coated brown skin, symbolically rich, history on each finger tip
too much power for one man or woman to walk around with
and what can we do with it?
dare I walk outside without my skin some days
and drive a car without being pulled over
I see you who grabbed your purse in the mall yesterday
you who crossed the street to feel a bit safe today
the police man that follows me home every day
the black man that doesn’t think Im black enough everyday
the wife, who cant depend on her man, to be the man today
my memories become blackened and stained tear drops
I see…death put to people like me
emotionally raped, mentally slain, and physically drained
they wonder why we still fight
I fight for you
I fight for me
because hoping things will change
never changed a damn thing.
sticks and stones may break your bones
but words will always teach you
I learned today there is more than one way
to defeat you.

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What happened to the hunger
proverbial head trip
entrenched authentic
irrefutable adolescence
who dreamed of travel
blindly riding the currents of wind
peaking
tracing their footsteps
exploring their peace of heaven
hearing a voice of contention
in a mainstream existence
forced to choose between
rich or poor
what happened to the good days
kids playing in the sand box
swinging playing hop scotch
jump rope type days
cops and robbers
cowboys and indians
vivid convictions genuine in essence
but these times know no hesitation
it waits for no one
like raw alcohol with no chaser-we chase it
some how we learned to engulf this
temporary penetration of fulfillment
choking on this
poisonous hope
becoming slave to the trade, induced green paper grains
we use to dream of life
fantasizing
stuck on stupid
with our hands out and pockets parched
we swallow humanity salivating
oh how sweet it would be to have that next dead president
lie full in our pockets
its clear
we’re not all about the Benjamins
we want it all
sacrificing happiness and family
tied up and hanged
openly and publicly
stitched in the values of material things
we contract this image and glory
money over bitches
sex cars and switches
we stain the youth
passing the buck
we pitch tents with for sale signs
cashing in the monetary values
robbing youth of minds
blindly raping sheep in wolfs clothing
we are building a race to death cycle
obviously civilization lives not
and it shows no regret
there will be no reward
character
courage
and honor left this place a long time ago
sailing away on a ship never to be found
and we wonder where it went
we must right this ship
free the May Flower


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