PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

They said man,
What he doing trying to do poetry,
He's only 16 years old.
He don't know anything about struggle,
He barely got the mic in control.

How you goin tell me I don't know anything about struggle.
Last time I checked there wasn't no age limit on pain.
There wasn't no age limit on sitting on the sidewalk,
Crying in the rain.
Not caring what anybody said that drove by.
Cause you been pushed too much in a puddle of pain,
And all you can think about is wanting to die.
And being put in a casket and a grave.
She screaming out help god!,
And asking to be saved.
I didn't know there was an age limit on that.
Cause back when I did that in 7th grade, 2009 there wasn't no age limit on that.
So before you start judging this book by its cover.
You better understand a little bit of how it is to be me,
You better understand a little bit of how it is to be teased
You better understand a little bit of how it is,
To be sitting in you're kitchen,
With a knife in your palm,
And you put it back seconds before your mom comes in.
Think about if I never put back that kinfe,
Think about how I would've slept that night,
Think about how my mom would've slept that night.
Knowing her son could've been dead that day.
How you think she would've been able to lay her head that day?
So I don't care if I'm 16 years old.
I don't even care if I was eight.
And I dont have mic control.
Cause I don't care if my arms shakin,
I don't care what the crowd sayin,
I don't care if you think my words are mediocre to amazing,
I'm still do it for the people that aint got no voice.
Cried so many tears to the point they can't be calm,
With a knife in their palm,
Like they got no choice.
So before you start judging me,
You better understand a little bit of how it is o be,
That "nerd" in the back of the classroom.
You better understand a little bit of how it is to want to fit in,
But you could never get it.
And to have cool be your mission.
Well I got my own cool now.
But not everybody got they cool.
So say what you want because I'm 16 years old.
Say what you want because idont got the mic in control.
Say when I'm speaking my poetry I don't know how to spit my soul,
Cause when I'm speaking,
It's just not me speaking.
It's every kid that been teased,
Every kid that been picked on.
Every kid that been beat.
Every kid that been poor.
Every kid that been told they will amount to nothing.
It's all these souls speaking.
And I bet they don't give a CRAP!!
If my arm shakin.
I bet they dont even care if my arms breaking.
They don't care what the crowd sayin.
Or if my words are mediocre to amazing.
Cause I'm goin still do it for the people that aint got no voice.
Cried so many tears to the point they cant be calm,
With a knife in their palm,
Like they got no choice.
...So that's who I do it for.
I do it for the people that got nobody doing anything for them.
I do it for the people that got so much potential,
But being told that they got nothing going for them.
I do it for the people so trapped in the illusion of confusion,
With nobody but the devil going for them.
Cause I was told by this guy by my poetry he was emotionally hit.
So as long as I'm saving souls,
I don't care if I'm sixteen years old,
And my arm shakin,
I don't even care if my arm breakin.
I dont care what the crowd.
I don't care if you think my words are mediocre to amazing.
Cause I'mma still do it for the people that aint got no voice.
Cried so many tears to the point they cant be calm,
With a knife in their palm,
Like they got no choice.
So yes,
This 16 year old poet know about struggle.