PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

look through the eyes of a nigga,

never fearing his surroundings...

weighing his options,

the same as the amount of misery he's founded...

surrounded by demons,

scheming up a plot to witness his black body drop...

corrupt cops roams his projects like filthy pigeons...

having to adjust to the madness,

where drive-by's is a religion...

bang! bang!

Amen...

to sin again is no option...

he's adopted this insanity...

and his mentality is to grasp figures,

in which he never gets none...

look through the eyes of a nigga,

who's life is a suicidal sitcom...

the laughter, the smiles...

all the while he's dying...

he never related to any of his peers...

so all the time he was lying...

to fit in and kick it...

to be like all the niggas he used to be with...

to have what they had,

even if he had to steal it...

now picture the mind of a nigga with no remorse...

homicidal cause his only home is an island they called

a morge...

so depressed,

but trying to survive under all this suppression...

guessing his future,

cause all his past left was questions...

angled at 360 degrees,

in the midst of cross fires,

witnessing homicides in three-D,

and he be couped up in the corners of seclusion...

praying for resolutions to rid his confusions...

he's delusional,

and his dreams only fuses the intensity,

and suspense...

he thinks he's only meant to be... an illusion,

in the mind of a rebel,

so he prays daily,

rebuking the devil,

hoping that it pays off,

having nightmares of a stair-way to hell from the inside of a coffin...

inside of a jail cell he's often... subdued...

and he has a right to be pissed off & confused...

abused by his own parents...

his heart is no longer transparent...

yet mangled and strangled...

left alone inside his own webbed-world,

cold and tangled...

just try and envision,

half of your life locked inside of a cold prison...

can't even take a fuckin piss by your lonesome,

without someone's eyes roaming & annoying you...

and your whole life you've heard that God is going to anoint you...

appoint you to a direction where no one can fuckin harm you...

and hurt you,

but in your mind it seems your dreams have been murdered,

and God just deserted you...

but you keep praying, and keep talking to your imagination,

everyday, and every night you try and fight

the pain and the misery from breaking your fuckin concentration...

and they keep saying that alone you're not...

but lonely you've got to be...

they got to see these strainful thoughts and dreams...

how can they not see this painful misery...

and it's sending him...

a place outside of his mind-state...

into the inner city -

slummed and plagued up...

now he's doped up...

over intoxicated with hate...

in the middle of the interstate,

cold and shivering...

all the fuckin pain and loneliness,

he's finding ways to get rid of them...

alcoholic breath being blown in smoke...

one puff of toxic gas,

his ass is gone in one choke...

it's fucked up, but he was scared...

he died from an overdose...

of too much potential,

but no one who fuckin cared...



Tha Prodigal One...