Critical


What a mess to be blessed in,
demons all on my shoulders, no part of heaven I question.
Seems to me the thing to be supports bigotry,
but seasons bring reasoning to different sections.
Nah, I'm not a reverend,
but the youth needs truth so I speak it and believe it in and out the booth.
Sorta like a Rubix Cube, twisting and turning colors til they all align.
I look into my mother's eyes and tell her I'm fine but I always lie. Why?
I inhale the earth until I see it for what it's worth.
Church bells ring as the birds sing.
The police are searching for us while we're still hurting. It irks me.
Do you know what it feels like to be black today?
I could pass away and they could say I was grabbing a K,
while I was really grabbing my cape saving the world.
But nothing really matters right?
You lose sight of the issues because the Cubs are winning.
It's all fun and games until brains are on the street and colleges are shot up.
The government doesn't lose a beat.
U-S-A? More like DSA. Division of Souls Absolutely
and people are acting like they got it all, but don't ever be in movies.
You almost fooled me.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem