Fight the crime
that made me
create a rhyme
that made me shoot for a dime
and that dime allowed me to
get by
but to advance my adiction
to getting high
I tried to get rid of tobacco
but instead of throwing it away
i swallowed it
my stomach would not digest it
my heart rejected it
i'm stuck in this evoLution
that made my mind
create an illusion that
I'm stuck in a institution
i'm being convicted of
mental retardation
but i have tried to
program my mind to perfection
The drugs has taken over
The walls in my mind are
moving
closer
closer
and closer
i've listened to the madical doctors
but they can't stop the drugs from moving through my
blood faster
turn off the lights
of imagination
and open the door of salvation
as you close
your
eyes
you relize
that you see the whites skies
and as you sleep
you dream of the streets
that you walk freely through
wishing that you could
wear somebody
elses shoes
as you sleep
you lie
soft and picture the bright white
skies

School is 4 Fools

Schoolz almost over and here is sum encouraging


I don’t really need the board of education
Because right now I am bored of education
That’s why I have an imagination
So I can picture all of this stuff
I don’t need to learn
I don’t need the stern teachers who earn less a day
And here I stay
And for what?
I don’t need school
And abiding the rules?
I got my own
Here I am writing alone
To everyone in classes
Who learn everyday?
What I can I say?
What a bunch of nerds but hey
This isn’t about them
About me you see?
Principal or Ruler, and pencil and a ruler yeah right
I don’t tutor
That’s twice the times I talk in a twister
C I kno my engilsh……I’m finish with all this
Work that I do
To get nothing to do
That’s why I don’t to go to school
Cause school is 4 fools
And you?
Well….
You can stay with no care
Living in fear
And who’s going be there
When you shed a tear?
Like your friends care?
Oh yeah
Let’s go with that
Matter of fact
You can
Stay with the people who got those knifes
And lost lives
But never forgotten
But a mom’s surprise
To find out yet another one’s gone
Not transfers
To find out half the kids got cancer
And only one smart girl
So they decided to advance her
So
Why go school when most don’t learn?
Why not drop out?
Oh well
Is up to everyone here
Live with people who do care
Just
Like
Me
You see
Now I got a great job at Mc Donald’s
Ronald is great leader to follow
Sure there is a little dough
But you know that’s not it
You can be a waiter
You can cater those nerds
If not you can be those guys at the supermarkets
Sure it’s far less than a waiter
Buts it not hard to get
See
You
Can succeed
Without
A
Degree!
And end up being
Broke like me!
Make your choice…..
And Who you want to be?

Last Round

I can tell you what i have to say
but the words just can't fit this page
bomb my life of salvation
hanging bodies across the room for decoration
My mind has been twisted in a revolution
My life has been seen worse than the book of revalations
My words were the worst creation
I can tell you what i have to say
but the words just wont fit this page
as i sing the song of inspiration
My mind is set for consetration
but my mind shows a death
stabbing blood flowing retaliation
I have seen the stars and shot for more
I've lived for the worst oof us
Bullets and cuts can't hurt me
like you do cause
you shot me down and attacked my mind as
I finally relized
I don't have the finest clue
of what the hell i'm getting myself into
My legs are quivering
my limbs are shivering
My hearts breaking down
Crombling, with out a shadow of a doubt
a shadow of a doubt
a shadow of a doubt?
what the hell am i talking about
My mind has conceived a illusion
but inconclusion
i stand here crying cries of the dying dire
of desire..................



This poem is not finished give me some ideas please cause im running out

Day 7= 555 my antiself

The days of all days
End meets end
Where my life meets death
And I can't
WAIT
My mind is burning is urging
Purging out memories I'll never forget
I relive my life within 5 seconds
And itz the last day of the days of reckoning
Looking back at the past couple days
From
The beginning of my days of reckoning
Through my tauntings and craving just to go to sleep
I can't
WAIT
Till the end is over
And......
A black light appears
And I am not scared
I face this monster and what do I see?......
5 demonic statues stand before me
5
5.....
poets
The slam is coming
Now you have been warned

See what my life has been reduced to
Since day 1= looking ahead at the week
Day 2= can't sleep and working at my poem
Day 3=tried out 4 the team and I can at least get sum sleep
day 4=praying to make the team
day 5=convicing myself no matter what I had made the team
Day 6= well same as day 5
Today= I am at the team

Why I was talking about a boy who was going to die
Because I am that boy and I will die for poetry
Poetry Slams are hell
And I
Will
Be
There

Why i write

Why do i write?
I write for the thought of making it big
making sure people know i give a sh*t
i have tried to speak without getting angry
but it's like not being heard was my destiny
I write cause i got things to say
My words had sometimes gone astray

my words dry out the liquid in your body
i Know being true will allow me to be heard supposily
I' m sick and tierd of shouting to make a link
and it seems like people need words to think

the flow of writing
has edged me on
my words should be written in a song
As i walk down the street bopping to my own music
think abot the beats my words have developed
all the people around me
seems to be shut uped

why do i write ?
I write for the heck of it
I tried yelling and im tierd of it
My lungs gasping for air
as i scream amd shout what i have to say
but i bet everyone wouldlistening
if i said that Chris Brown was gay

I write because of ,me being a minority
is seen to be a bumb saying help me
i write because thats how i deal with all the feelings that are killing me

I write because this world is a big
microphone with no sound
So as you speak it's like no one is around

I write for the men and women in the army
i write for the GOD above that saved me
I write because i don't want what i have to say to die
My words fly high
above the ones who dont care
the ones who try to be sincere

Do you still want to know why i write, really?
well i write because
these damn teachers keep on putting a pen and paper in front of me.

The Blackest Poet...

You guys have to see this...

http://www.ooh.tv/ViewChannel.aspx?ChannelID=69952414&ReleaseID=71823148

What do you think?

Inspiring Inspiration

Should i be scared at the way you look at me
am i suppose to jump because you are my enemy
You have controlled my tounge for so long i feel as if what your doing is wrong
You've controlled the motions in my body
When i tried to speak you sometimes shund me
am i suppose to melt in the presence of your humanity
Shot down my emotions cause you thought you owned me
1, 2, 3
You are my redemption of my creation
Which i have spoken
Which i have written
Which i have lived
Which i have forgiven

You are my deception which has put me in an institution
for my intuition
My recreation of all senses
Which has been my relation for my rehabilitation for
MY WORDS
MY WORDS
that can't be heard
cause my mind is not sure
NOT SURE
of the power my heart contains
the pain and anger will still remain
I stand hear alone not sure of the power my words hold
My mind is my solution
I have written my own constitution
of my words that can't be revealed
I need to keep my emotions consealed
My mind has transitioned from master to minion
I have felt that my words were unreachable
Maybe because i was shattered by my own ego
My words were never mine
I'm speaking faster and faster since i'm running out of time
I'm dreaming of an unfulfillable moment
I can't reach my emotions because i never showed it

SPEAK YOUR MIND
but how can i speak my mind
When there is a robot
running from my toes through my bones and up my vains
I can't control it anymore
and I know I'm not the same
should i back down
'cause you want to act like a clown
I've been around the world and throught the country
Wait hold up i think i'm halusinating
I've been covered by a mask of masqeurating clothes
I thought i could get my topics from the youth speaks shows
I can't get control
My words must unfold
I don't know what kind of power my mind holds
I have tried to do what i am told
My words are being carried like a laundry load
with bags and more bags of things that don't make any sense
trying to put them together has made me more and more tense
My powers have been relinquished
but what i have to say is that i am distingusihed
I am distinguished
I've been dropped by aliens form the past to the future
I can't be told anymore i need to be the teacher
the unreachable Preacher
the mind stopping, breath freezing leader
the one and only redeamer

I walk alone through the shadow of death
my words were so cold i froze my own breath
My words have no particular designation
but when i speak to a crowed it has a sharp retaliation
I don't care cause i know what brings my inspiration
My words must have a destination
I know my words are my appreciation
You pick
What is your destination

Day 6 (Want to die but god keeping me alive)

Tomorrow…
Everything
Ends
And today
I ……..
Just want to die
Being alive is hard
Trying to survive is hard
The only thing that is going to be easy for me is to die
Die
DIE!
Tomorrow is where everything end
My days of reckoning
My DAYS OF RECKONING
Is starting a final countdown
24 hours
Is all that is left…..
My sky is black
My life is intact
I am dead as I know
And will never see the light of day again

We made it to the next round in the mock trial competition

Yeah Yeah Yeah

Even Though People was bitting off of our questions and stuff

we still gona win

Ya know we can do it

we gonna make it to the last round and we gonna win

CAn nothing stop us!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Da Poem

Piercing through your skin,
Comes a blade carved with the words of wisdom from my generation.
Hoping that the more blood it meets,
The more this nation will comprehend why we poets love this poetry sensation.
Hoping that the harder we stab the quicker these lines spoken by our youth will get their attention.
But you see...this blade does not slice your tissue,
It merely desires to scratch your soul and cut open your heart
Coming at you are similes and metaphors so sharply thought of like already bloodstained darts,
But it seems that our country, our media, our own families are wearing a poet proof vest when we
Speak our emotion,
Show our passion,
Spit our rhymes,
So none of our figurative language,
None of our lines,
None of our passionate emotions get through…
But this can’t be true, is my generation seriously lost,
Or is it that we just haven’t been found…

Are our words that meaningless, NO!!!
This can’t be, because as I keep on talking, the more those opposing thoughts mean less.
I’ve witnessed the Apollo Theater sold out just to see a bunch of kids say a bunch of stuff
I wish that a crime had been committed while we were there so that maybe they would’ve been on the news
Actually there was a crime because those poems that were spoken assassinated me
Those lines ignited flames in my body, and fascinated me,
That bunch of stuff that was said was so impacting and so shocking that it felt as if I was being punched by the World Heavyweight Champion Boxer,
His fist was clutched in my stomach,
His knuckles tackled my bloodstream rewarding my heart with an uppercut
But I loved the way some pieces just stabbed you in the back, and others slapped you from facial expression
To facial expression,
And some were just said like messages from above…
But I’m pissed off because the media didn’t show them any love
Instead, they record our lives as the blinded ones,
The misdirected ones,
The education-given non-educated ones,
Oh how they report only our violence
For once I’ll like to see a poet perform for more than a few seconds on the news and not feel used for their reputation
So that mom and dad don’t look at it as a 5-second clip of what their son or daughter likes to do,
So "No mommy, this is not just a hobby, there’s a puncture in my body, and I’m happy...because my emotions have converted into liquid and they’re finally leaking out"
And "No dad, I might not make money off what I say, but every time I notice a grin in my audience, they’ve just made my day"
Because a response from your listeners means they were actually listening and that means something
So I’m tired of hearing that my generation has no ambition,
If you can’t see our talent, then just listen…
Don’t ever tell me you think we’re full of misdirection, because unless you see us do our thing for 8 periods a day, 5 days a week, 4 weeks a months, 10 months a year, for 2 ½ years, you can’t tell me you’ve seen 3000 hours of our work and still think we’re racing on the wrong track…
Listen to the rhymes without beats hitting behind them,
Listen to the similes and metaphors that are not so much bloodstained darts but feathers of purity landing on you…
Read the poems being written by my fellow writers,
Hear the songs being sung by my fellow singers,
Observe the skits being performed by my fellow actors,
Listen to the speeches being spoken by my fellow speakers,
Look at the portraits being painted by my fellow painters,
Through our art we unlock each other’s rib cages to release the messages that have remained encased to you…
We are all artists, but although we like money, we’d much rather to be paid close attention to.

Day 5 (Dead Alive.......only to see death)

This day that I hate
This
THis
I can not talk anymore
Food doesn't noursih
My memory has flourish
And I don't have the courage to sleep
Maybe one quick nap
Maybe a little rest
I will wake up I pormise I'll do my best
I will not confront the grim, grim reaper
I will not face him
I will not die
I will not die
Beause I got........
You do the math
2 more days
And I will survive

Day 4 (Praying 2 die)

I open my eyes I can't believe I survived
I didn't die
Now I'm looking around and I see my mom
She's worried
My sister hurried
She's scurring around looking for something
And here I lay down on the ground
"How long more mom?
How many more days?"
"Its 3 more days...........3 long more days"
I pray that my death would be quick
I don't want to imagine the pain of death
I will have my rest
Because in this world life is just one big test
And I have fail

Day 3 (Last words are always remembered)

This bed is haunting
Taunting my every move as if it knows I want to sleep
But right now I’m having a little trouble breathing, I’m heaving
And grasping for some air and I’m having this burning feeling
I’m try not to believe that this is happening
I’m panicking
Acting frantically
I’m staggering to my deathbed but only to collapse
A relapse of memory has made me forget
I’m about to be dead
My vision is blurring
My speech is slurring
Like I was drunk but I could remember what had happen
Here I lay on the floor
My mom comes in the door
My last word is bye and I can’t say anymore

Day 2 (Never go 2 Sleep)

Tired as hell I don’t want to fall asleep
Instead I weep
I creep slowly of this bed
And try to hold up my head
Look outside in the sky
And try to look happy
But knowing that slowly my body is falling apart
My heart is not working like it was from the start
I walk to my mom and I’m hoping for comfort
She told me to lie down but I’m not dumb though
Because when you die slow you know your limits
And if I go in that bed I will be constricted
And I won’t be able to walk no more
Then I won’t be able to talk no more
But just 5 more days
And the end will come
But I will not go in that bed ‘cause my life will be done

Day 1 (Thus Begins the Days of Reckoning)

The beginning of the end
Of this tremendous, endless, week that will be hell
I could tell of these darkening shadows
I not mad though
I just could see the end before it comes
I don’t want to leave
I want to believe that I am not dying on this bed
6 more days….. Just 6 more days yet
This day 1 has only just begun
My mind, my memory isn’t going to helping me
Because its start to play some tricks on me
I can’t believe what’s going on around
JUST 6 MORE DAYS……just 6 more days
Can I stay awake???
The black skies of the day
Will stay for an eternity
Only to ask to myself
Why?
I only rely on this instinct I have but now nothing replies
Why?
I am going to die…….

Slam Poet

My Pen shoots thru you like...like sliced open cuts and guns shot wounds
While I stand here trying to tell ya to think, cause our death is coming way to soon
Open minds taking grasp of the lows and highs, the highs and lows,
The high rises of what he calls poetry,
Poetry
This poet reads what comes off the top of his head and enters his lined sheeted notebook,
His spine shook as his soul trancends from his foot up,
His blood rushed,
his voice hushed,
As he heard someone call him a poet...,
Cause you see I never thought I would have made it to that level,
That stature of excellence,
I Am NOW A SLAM POET,
A- SLAM- POET,
and-and I still remember back then
I still remember When
My open worded wounds bled the blood of unspoken lies and unheared cries while I lied in a sea of confusion, going delusional
As unseen faces appeared, brutal events reappeared.
As I try to decipher, decode my unkown's know
I try to figure out who I am but this ain't no ressurection,
My mind's obssesion for perfection was infecting my mind!
Every time I wrote, I felt as if I was running out of time,
I'm runnig out of time,
I'm Running out of time and...
I don't know what to put after that line,
But I still tried cause poetry gave me life, it gave me courage, it encouraged my nonsense lotta sense straight forward poems locked up deep down in my dome, it open my eyes, defiled my soul, as I rhymed I told the cold, untold story, on how poetry supposedly caught me,
It helped me to confront my fears thru INK FILLED TEARS

I got good news though....I just saved a bunch of words on my writing insurance by switching to slam poet.

I'm not the type of poet that only speaks his words at spoken words,
but for the hell of it cause I love the feel of it,
The unreal deal with it,
How poetry urges a worded surge thru my body and what emerges is quite mighty....

A-Slam-Poet
The type of poet thet comes and sets the stage in such a blaze and
I try my best to spit out my last lines while my lungs are still in pain and
I continually drain the sain making ya go insane and i'm tired complaining,
Complaining on how this world needs to change
But don't get your hopes up cause it seems that its just staying,

but yet...here I stand shooting rhymed lines from my mind as I cast my notebook line off shore cause i'm sure, i'll still be able to do what I do and hope for more.

So I'll give you more,
Pain, love and time are the three seeds that will help you to soar
Drug addicts sell crack, crack sells itself, money buys more crack, the Government keeps the wealth,
It's the so called
Circle Of Life, And it does us wrong, the circle of life, and it does us wrong
And this so called circle is made up of his life,her life, your life and it all dcides our life
We are all apart of the math it's either you change the product or let it past,
I'm never gonna let it go,
Cause I'm a slam poet and it's my job to let a know

7 days of Reckoning

Here's a story of a boy, who has never lived life 2 his fullest.........he has a disease and only calls for him to live for 7 days......this the story of the boy.........each day I will post a different day, following himso you can see what he sees



Here I am standing at the end
My eyes is falling, now I’m yawning
Here on the last day of the planet
I panic of the sudden death of me
I could see the sky the pitch black blanket
Knowing I won’t make it
I will just ask for forgiveness for everything I have done
I go to my family because it is more important than business
I try to stay optimistic but to admit it, its not working
Here I stand at the end
“Just give me one more day”
I pray to the gods hoping for a save
But no answer is given
And I will go into oblivion
So good bye to the world that I hold clear and dear
For the ending is almost here………

The Game of Life

Somewhere down the block,
there's a boy gettin' shot,
and shots of heroine is injected in an arm down the block.
They're overdosing themselfs, because that's all that they got.
They got no family that loves them because they're busy smoking blocks.
Blocks of marijuana somewhere so they're busy breaking locks.
Locked up brains, secluded, intruders like the boiling pot.
Plotting their way for invasion,crept through, that's why that boy is getting shot.

You see,
it's hard in this world.
People can't figure out who they are,
or what they're worth.
It's hard because not even God owns this Earth.

This world plays tricks with your mind.
It gives you infinit stabs from behind.
Got teachers saying "Quit you illit, stop trying!"
So, now we got little kids throats slit, then dying!

It's like...
This life I'm living
is worst than this price I'm giving.
He's walking on hot stones, and already twice I've tripping.
Since a little kid, I always had this perfect vision
on life, but I kept on making the wrong decisions.
If no change, I'll end up spending his life in prison.
I prays for one thing,
just that the lord forgives my sins.

But it seems like no matter what I do,
this is where I live,
where 15 year old girls are screaming at thier kids,
where hustlas keep rolling dice and making bigger bids,
where criminals keep stacking up their homicidal list.
When the hell will we stop all of this?

The one thing I always knew was that,
life is hard,
and innocent people get charged
on murder,
you tryin' hard
to put the pieces together,
but all you have is a shard.
You're tryna build a sand castle in stormy weather.
Past memories on words and phrases which were told to you,
like never say never.
Didn't that person realize
that they just said "never" twice?
I hate contradictions.
Parents making false predictions.
All that "Happily ever after" crap is fiction!
The truth that life ain't beautiful,
but then again is it.

I love looking at the simple things in life,
like a feather falling from the sky.
The little things that you can describe,
like how when you try to catch it,
it almost feels like magic
is tryna keep
it away.
"Why can't you just stay?"
Let me rock you to sleep,
in my hand, you can lay.

My life is very bumpy,
nah, matter fact I have San Fransisco hills.
Collectin' pennies, nickels, and dimes just tryna make a single bill.
Yes, I grew up with a rough past,
had my friends force into my hands a gun.
While your child grew up in a great school,
with role-model parents,
yet I bet I still know more than your son.
Yes, I speak different, with the accent that we all have in the bronx.
People have critisized me for it,
not by throwin' sticks or stones,
but it was more like big rocks which broke my bones.
No matter what, my attitude will stay positive,
this will not ruin my future plans,
because in time my bones will heal,
and I've got nothing but time on my hands.
My life will not shatter into pieces for some little stupid reason.
The end of my precious life is far away,
because my life has only begun.

That's why I'm telling you right now,
no body can make or break me,
because to people like me, risks with these high stakes are safety.
I might be a little fat, but you best believe that you can't shake me.
I look at the world different, because I've been very descriptive lately.
I can look into a picture and see the hurt people behind the wall,
and see a new born baby, and see how he will stand so tall,
and look into a puppies eyes, and see how it's not scared at all.

My life has been ramed into the ground.
Everyone has ups and downs,
yet all I have is downs.
Constantly everybody keeps tellin' me,
that all I'll ever be is a clown.
Look into the clown's faces.
Those frowns are permanant,
they're not painted,
but there's this one thing that keeps us clowns going and going.

Just look at the sparkle in our eyes,
they're there just glowing,
and my ambition for this poetry has just been growing.
C'mon, if you got talent, just show it.
I'm telling you, don't think about it, just know it.
Stop second-guessing your talent of a poet.
Treat it like your first time on stage, don't blow it.
It be like battling for that "Numba one spot"
Drop that negitivity like them girls just "Drops it like it's hott!"
Keep your head up,
just work with what you got.

You got to work with what you got,
because nothing was ever handed to me.
Never white lies, always full blown truth, because
my parents never told me bout Santa Claus.
Even if they would've got caught
in their own lie.
I never woke up Christmas morning,
cause there was never surprises.
There was never much to expect.

I've been through the times of the worst,
the times of the best.
I don't stay fly or fresh,
but true from head to toe
till the day I rest.
Everyday my life hands me a new test.
Nowhere as simple as the SAT's,
the citywide.
This is heartfelt, and mind widening.
This is the test of life.

Ya kids always complain about your school,
your homework, and ya little bullies.
Has anyone ever had themselves as their own bully?
My face is scratched.
My arms and body are bruised.
My wrists are slit,
bleeding down to the paper.
My pen is bloody,
because my fingertips are bursting open with all
my lies, my lines, my fears,
my sweat, my cries, and my held in tears.
I'm trying so hard to be a man,
but the harder I try,
the more I can't.
I can't see anything anymore.
No more things can be seen through my eyes.
Nothing is clear.

Life is filled with ups and downs.
Filled with at least one major sacrifice.
I guess everything ain't that simple anymore, right now,
when your playing the "Game of Life"

When do I
Sepreate my self from
The coke sniffing, weed puffing drunks of America
Before I go to jail or
After they lay me down to sleep,

Before I'm tasting my salt
rockin back and forth in the corner
of a drug dealers apartment or
After I'm cutting my arm
because I'm looking for a drink,

Before my body is shipped aross the seas
For some 40 year old man who can't get a gurl or
After I lose all will power and start to
live death,

What about before the
Magets are eating me
And after I
Tell the guy on the corner no I'm good.

Living death

Last night
I killed my self.
I picked up my
Invisible knife and cut
My soul into pieces
Of pain trying to see
If then you'll pay attention.
Maybe if I go around saying I'm going to
Kill my self
You'll listen
Listen to the
Tears that fall down my face
landing in my mouth
Forcing me to taste
My salt
Listen to my yell to god
Others call prays
Maybe if I do then you would listen
Cuz right now im just another flower in the garden
Another grain in sand
Another girl in school
That thinks well your kinda cute
Maybe then I could
Stop living death.

Step Up or Step Off

Yo, So called "soon to be famous slam team"
dont let the fam go to ur head
get back on ur game,
-make it hot
-make it interesting
come on
I Know ya might be working on things but ya got to pick it up
remember this is ur last year and ya need to leave with a bang
Son, I Know ya might be stressed out by things, but put your stress into something ya love,
and if ya can't do that
then ya not the slam team every one thought ya was
Mr. Craig can't be the team on his own and if ya don't put no effort into it
niether is he
so don't let me have to take one of ya places
GET IT 2 GETHER

fears

I always had one major fear
A fear of life it self.

A fear I would be punished
for the things I would do in the near furture.

A fear I would die
A slow and painful death
But some how enjoy it.

My biggest fear was that
My pen would run out of ink,
My pencil would be to small to use,
And my paper, well, I would just run out.

Now my fear is, I won't be able
to hold in my tear for no longer,
Then every one would know
I cry in class and lie
say naw I'm ok.

When really I'm the complete opposite.

What is poetry

What are these poetic lines?
& poetic rhymes?
That flows when the ink
In my pen goes,

What is that when I speak...
People listen to me.
Even though sometimes
It doesn’t rhyme.
It always makes sense
And I made it were my words would
Rinse the world of its evilness.
And clean the dirty mouths of
The devil
And relaxed your mind while I
Spoke my words of wisdom.

Some how
Some way
I use to be able to write for days
And sing for hours
Laugh for years,
Without creating a wrinkle.

But now I can barely speak
Let alone eat
How do they expect me to write?
How do they expect me to be in the poetry slam?
Please knowing me I’ll get cold feet.

Why would they want me to write poetry?
If I don’t even no what it is.
Why would they want me to be a poet of
145 and carry on the honor.
Well I can’t since my back is to sore
My legs can’t move
Tell the truth I don’t know what to do.
All I know is I can’t write poetry
Like they do.

My dream

I once had a dream,
A dream that,
Lasted for
Minutes, hours,
Days, years.
I had a dream that this place we live in
Called the United States of America
Was really united,
I had a dream that instead of
Fighting ourselves
We didn’t fight at all.
My dream was beautiful the sky was blue
& not black from the dirt once used but never threw away.
The grass was green
Since people cleaned after there dogs.
In schools kids learned about
Communication Arts, Math, Science, and History
Instead how to create a fake blunt by only using only,
Loose leaf & chalk.
My dream,
My dream was
Like a master piece
Unable to see
With the naked eye but
Able to see with the eye of Belief.
My dream consumed of
Love, peace & harmony.
My dream inspired
The cripple to walk,
And the mute to talk

My dream was
Something breathe taking
This dream I could
Talk about for days
Even weeks but
Might never come true.
But if it does I’ll be to tired
To enjoy it,
Since I would be the creator.
No I have faith-
My dream will one day
Bloom & come true,
But as I imagined moremy dream ended &
I woke up.
Woke up to my plain
Toxic air breathing
Step in crap every two blocks
My city, my home,
my New York
I woke up
And realized I
Wanted to turn my
Dream into a reality…
So I did…
In my head
To think I did all
This while I was just
Lying in my bed.

I'm not the black you think I am

I don’t walk with a twist,
I don’t lick my lips

I don’t start fights,
I don’t carry a knife

If you think that’s the type
Of black I am
Well then I’m proud to say
I’m not black!!!

I can’t change my look,
I won’t change my style
I’m not sorry that I’m not the same.
Cause I am a human
I am not your type of black.

When and why I smile

I smile when disaster comes
I smile when I get bad grades
I smile when something depressing comes on
But all I do is Smile
As if I had nothing to say.
Some think that I’m just creepy
Some think that I’m just weird.
But what they didn’t know
Is that I do this to hide my fear.

My fear is
One day near
My life shall come to an end.
Another fear is another day
My friends will send me away.
Away to a land once seen,
But never saw again
Even though I thought
They wouldn’t
Since they said they were
My best friends.

I had one fear when young
A fear of life it self
With grandma gone
And cousins no longer fond
I was afraid my parents bond
Would one day fade away.

I had a fear when older
That no one would like me
And I would have no friends,
Which wasn’t true cause I got a few.

My fear today you see
Is my body will be sold
For coke in the street,
My mind will be wasted by one 40oz
I’ll try to get fatter
So my booty can bounce
Maybe then I’ll be like J-low,
Or maybe even Eve
Maybe then a bum on the street
Could call his queen.
All this cause I took one puff,
All this cause I sniffed that stuff.

I am...

I am Black
I am Japanese
I am Blackfoot

I am African American
I am Asian
I am Native American

I am what I am
That is all that I am

I am not Hispanic
I am not White
I am not Indian
I am not hawanii

I am what I am
That is all that I am
And I am human
What are you?