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belacsmith
20/M/Houston, TX
I busted open the door, breathed in the **** smell Floored by the busted bottles, used to beat females Beneath me, was a body, her bust exposed as she lied on the floor The liquor must of licked her, it missed her in her misery How’d she get mixed with pimps, and unsavory misters? Money. Funny, Dead presidents solve most mysteries I see north of me, broken pictures and light fixtures They say demons do their deeds in the darkness, These ****** damages defile as they fill in, this apartment The AC, broke, like empty pockets, The place equivalent to an icebox The ice on my wrist at home in one way But cool things will get you shot, You can’t strut on these runways I take some steps, I hear the wood scream Similar to when he laid her down in the sheets I find *** and a *** of crack cookin on the stovetop The trash has McDonald’s wrappers, his diet a disaster Bras of five different women on the floor Probably people purchased at clubs, to do his ***** chores I can see his finances are a mess, but his spirit is what’s poor Pores are sweatin, as I hear the walls of my past confessing THIS IS HOME This is where I was raised, actually no, where I was brought down Baby mamas in rotation like my favorite mixtapes My mind like what a place, ain’t no way I’m a stay He had his life all backwards, and I could never set him straight? I walked into Man’s Hood, I’m just glad I escaped But the women still abused, and the drugs he uses God, I’m 20 years old, this a lot on my plate I feel called to fix it, maybe that’s why I’m back I came for my bags, but the baggage attacks I hear a cry, a child breaks out in a whimper A skinny lil boy, probably missed too many dinners A son of another woman but my brother the same How can I make change if I run away THIS IS HOME I wipe his tears, tell him, it’ll be okay I stayed for that night. The future an unknown
0
Oct 30, 2020
Oct 30, 2020 at 11:51 PM UTC
Man's Hood
I busted open the door, breathed in the **** smell Floored by the busted bottles, used to beat females Beneath me, was a body, her bust exposed as she lied on the floor The liquor must of licked her, it missed her in her misery How’d she get mixed with pimps, and unsavory misters? Money. Funny, Dead presidents solve most mysteries I see north of me, broken pictures and light fixtures They say demons do their deeds in the darkness, These ****** damages defile as they fill in, this apartment The AC, broke, like empty pockets, The place equivalent to an icebox The ice on my wrist at home in one way But cool things will get you shot, You can’t strut on these runways I take some steps, I hear the wood scream Similar to when he laid her down in the sheets I find *** and a *** of crack cookin on the stovetop The trash has McDonald’s wrappers, his diet a disaster Bras of five different women on the floor Probably people purchased at clubs, to do his ***** chores I can see his finances are a mess, but his spirit is what’s poor Pores are sweatin, as I hear the walls of my past confessing THIS IS HOME This is where I was raised, actually no, where I was brought down Baby mamas in rotation like my favorite mixtapes My mind like what a place, ain’t no way I’m a stay He had his life all backwards, and I could never set him straight? I walked into Man’s Hood, I’m just glad I escaped But the women still abused, and the drugs he uses God, I’m 20 years old, this a lot on my plate I feel called to fix it, maybe that’s why I’m back I came for my bags, but the baggage attacks I hear a cry, a child breaks out in a whimper A skinny lil boy, probably missed too many dinners A son of another woman but my brother the same How can I make change if I run away THIS IS HOME I wipe his tears, tell him, it’ll be okay I stayed for that night. The future an unknown
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46
A child growing out of his clothes, into grown folk A metaphor for metamorphosis, A child looking within, questioning, if there’s an adult in this His childhood of little resourcefulness still made him fortunate It formed a fighter from birth, against evil’s extortionist As he was marked from the start like the A of adulteress No pretty dimes on his line, petty crimes to his name He’s penny wise with his time, plenty wise for his age Open wounds made him an open book, his cover couldn’t stay Every year a flipped page, read between the lines under his eyes He looks aged, his childhood misplaced Lost himself, like slaves and last names The child’s aim was to arrive to adult destiny He was never given the train His “Rite Of” Passage the underground railroad He freed himself from mental chains He became his own Harriet Tubman, Fled from home, got hip to runnin Walked through the hills and valleys reminiscing on fam in Cali They thought he left to rebel but truth is he misses em badly Long ago, his parents a Jack and Jill went whack for real, colliding down a hill, They were taken, gravity steals It’s fill of will over them still And ever since the spill, they been ill popped the pills caught the chills unpaid bills losing everything so they became his Achilles heel Left an orphan to look like Prodigal, but the optical isn’t real His struggle doesn’t appeal, so many stare unaware, looks can **** Labeled as a runaway, he just took ambition, and ran with it He can’t look back to miss them, he has to travel the distance He’s set sight on his vision He lost everything in the year twenty twenty So how is he still running? he lost the baggage with it A child running out of lessons from adolescence Adulting is different He grew up hard and fast, busted through the concrete Ready to make the past his *** screamed “put it behind me!” Hurt people hurt people So he declared “it’s all love” They hit him, he gets back up Thanks to The God up above
0
Oct 30, 2020
Oct 30, 2020 at 11:49 PM UTC
The Runaway (A Child's Trauma)
A child growing out of his clothes, into grown folk A metaphor for metamorphosis, A child looking within, questioning, if there’s an adult in this His childhood of little resourcefulness still made him fortunate It formed a fighter from birth, against evil’s extortionist As he was marked from the start like the A of adulteress No pretty dimes on his line, petty crimes to his name He’s penny wise with his time, plenty wise for his age Open wounds made him an open book, his cover couldn’t stay Every year a flipped page, read between the lines under his eyes He looks aged, his childhood misplaced Lost himself, like slaves and last names The child’s aim was to arrive to adult destiny He was never given the train His “Rite Of” Passage the underground railroad He freed himself from mental chains He became his own Harriet Tubman, Fled from home, got hip to runnin Walked through the hills and valleys reminiscing on fam in Cali They thought he left to rebel but truth is he misses em badly Long ago, his parents a Jack and Jill went whack for real, colliding down a hill, They were taken, gravity steals It’s fill of will over them still And ever since the spill, they been ill popped the pills caught the chills unpaid bills losing everything so they became his Achilles heel Left an orphan to look like Prodigal, but the optical isn’t real His struggle doesn’t appeal, so many stare unaware, looks can **** Labeled as a runaway, he just took ambition, and ran with it He can’t look back to miss them, he has to travel the distance He’s set sight on his vision He lost everything in the year twenty twenty So how is he still running? he lost the baggage with it A child running out of lessons from adolescence Adulting is different He grew up hard and fast, busted through the concrete Ready to make the past his *** screamed “put it behind me!” Hurt people hurt people So he declared “it’s all love” They hit him, he gets back up Thanks to The God up above
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58
You gone work it out              after all, this is a weight game Be PATIENT for all time highs              meanwhile, vibing to all time lows Might make yourself a bellionaire              after all, being broke can make you RICH                         being broke can make you FIXED So find beauty in the climb BEFORE the peak When they say it’s gonna work out              they meant it’s gonna exercise your belief The heart must get it’s reps as well                         so don’t stop til the set’s complete
0
May 1, 2020
May 1, 2020 at 10:35 PM UTC
Weight Game
Pick a card any card, jacks of all trades I’ve got queens to steady by, got my kings by my side Face stay poker with these jokers taking shots at my mind They’re weak like shots of wine unaware my hand dangerous my Seven eight nine All heart in the ***** club of diamonds how we shine Turning up like the place I see the card, there’s no face After hitting deck, I collect I’m a 10, to my side is the ace
0
May 1, 2020
May 1, 2020 at 10:30 PM UTC
Black Jack
His heart hit upon revival See, she fixed his luv like a typo Baby looks, got em shook For rooks they mistook em for Funny how they aged like vino Left it to God to fill his cup Now every glass is half full God spelling some blessings That were written in gospel They fermented in fine time The convos made fine wine Known as the young 1’s The growth’s an odd prime
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May 1, 2020
May 1, 2020 at 10:27 PM UTC
Fine Wine
To my future wife, WE are a package that’s not promised by the pinky,       but the ring finger If God’s index finger, can keep us alive that long       as we thumb across             ALL the middle fingers Satan has in store for us EXPECT broken nails, EXPECT deep cuts But know when OUR palms touch,       it takes us getting OUR hands *****             to build the relationship
0
Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 8:17 PM UTC
Take My Hand