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.