PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The future is in my eyes,

But the past has got my tongue…

So I plead the fifth in fear

I’ll incriminate all I ever wanted…

And all I ever wanted

Was to live the life of luxury…

But not what you think it mean…

I just wanted to be free…

From the shackles of expectations,

And activate my expressions…

But you’re probably betting I’m a fiend for currency…

Underneath my schemes to rid this poverty

I bury my frustrations & pride…

I’m shorter standing on my wallet,

Than drowning in the waters of my cries…

From all the years I’ve had to deal with being lost & lonely…

Disassociated with my peers,

And went searching for a personal omen…

To save me…

In order to understand me,

Trade places, and become this man in me…

Angels pursuing me like a dream,

But I can feel reality awakening…

Demons dressed in soft skin,

With the scent of sex…

Since Eve man has been possessed,

And now we’re all sleeping with the enemy…

My faith lies in a fifth of Hennessey,

And my gift is my curse…

Born black in the ghetto,

Where niggas can only afford hearse fare…

It’s hurts here in the pit of my heart…

And the palm of my hand is greasy…

It’s easy to say fuck the world,

Since the world’s been fucking you for 22 years like you’re sleazy…

I’m getting queasy off the bottle…

Buzzed, looking to the Lord for love,

And his light to follow…

But my lies lie inside my eyes,

And since sin is blind

I can’t seem to find my way, Father…

But why bother with religion

When even the preacher wants you ghost?

Studying your lifestyle like an Aids observation,

Crucifying you in his sermons cause he refuse to cope…

With all the suicidal contemplations

My life is a broken home,

And its situations is breaking my heart…

Wild from the start I was raised,

Just a skinny nigga doing bad shit…

Quick with the tongue cause that’s all I had, shit…

From the womb to the couch

I was the man of the house…

Pops tripped, then dipped…

Picture an adolescent’s fault why Pops plan didn’t work out…

And now Moms on a mission,

So she’s absent from the kitchen…

Me & my sis eating mayonnaise sandwiches,

Cause like our pops, the meat’s missing…

Now the heat’s rising & smoke thickening,

Cause I got to feed the family…

13 years of age,

But I’m forced to make it with the man in me…

Am I mad for life’s misfortunes?

Tell me what is it all worth?

No longer use my youth for an excuse,

But the truth still hurts…

Don’t dessert me now Lord,

It’s hard trying to make ends meet…

We can’t afford shit in the projects,

Yet the misery is free…

And like the prices on oil,

The death rate increases…

Walking these streets is death row -

Awaiting the lethal injection…

Killing niggas slowly,

Hoping for Christ’s resurrection…

Praying for resolutions to rid all this abuse amongst our youth,

But what is the fuckin use

When even the parents delusional & confused?

It’s not a secret, so don’t conceal the fact

We’re over-populated with fags & dykes,

And the majority are black…

It’s going to take a nation of millions

If we intend to stop the killing,

But stop harassing the victims,

And go within the government & start arresting the real villains…

Commencing to money making tactics,

So it’s either rapping or drug dealing…

Graduated with honors only to go on to the penitentiary…

Fifteen and buck wild,

A knuckle head in the game…

Survived the trials of my childhood,

And now my manhood will never be the same…

I walked in my pop’s shoes,

So I stepped on a lot of toes…

Made a fool out of love,

Now not giving a fuck is my only rule…

And only Lord knows what lie inside the heart of a menace…

A thug angel with broken wings,

Walking the grounds of hard living…

Hustling became my daughter…

Struggling just to stay above water…

No time to be a peaceful man,

So my plan is for a New World Order…

In this crime land…

My mind’s gone…

Decapitated thoughts - I’m a casualty of war stuck in this time zone…

Am I wrong for my heart’s coldness?

Try holding this fear of recollecting on my hood days…

Trying to sit in bliss & reminisce on good shit from good days,

But only crime pays…

And the good die young…

I’m strung out & doped up…

Gone of the bottle,

Choking from smoke puffed by drug dealers & alcoholics…

Listening to Sam Cooke up a wisdom,

Praying for changes to come…

It’s a shame,

But don’t blame the dumb cause the truth is looking strange…

We’re the ones who have it worse -

Born into a world already curse, and living hurts,

But I’m stuck in this game.



Tha Prodigal One...