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BlakOps Mar 2012
4 words--theoretics boom
I believe in you.
Changed the world.
Changed the difference between me and you.
affects the peoples mindstate
Pushes coersive weight
subtraction the negative aura
Add positive floral
Multiply the 13 letters
Divide the cheddar  
Light as a feather
Bring the world together
BlakOps Feb 2012
It’s a new rule, I just instated it.
Saves me from the same mistake.
Getting stuck on that girl is dumb luck,
The rest is history she got me here.
Just to please her
Just to squeeze her

I have to look into your eyes to find it.
But then I realize its romantic,
So I offer every piece,
Of mind, body, and soul
Sacrifice
For the love I owe.

But love poems that rhyme have no reason.

Hard pressed to find a love so clear,
Love becomes seasonal.
Summer love
Love falls
Winter rebirths and spring it’s found
Yet questions remain
Should we love?
Does it rhyme or reason?
Or will it follow true form and be blind?
I don't know but love poems shouldn't rhyme.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
Bang!
Dig! Dig!
Keep your head low
Throw the arms
Pump. Pump.

Woof! wo-woof!Over here!

Breath.
In my nose, out my mouth
Accelerate. Slow rise.
Pump. Pump.
Next gear. Go!
Drive the knees. Forward lean.
There he is! Get him! WOOF!
Keep the stride.
Don't stop.
They can't catch what they can't see.
Ghostin um'.
Lean into this corner.
Drive off it.
Drive! Drive!
Knees high!
Pump your arms!
Go! Go!
He over there! I see him!
More power.
Don't close your stride.
They can't catch you today.
Champion. Don't stop.
Run til you got no more breath!
Run til you got nothing left!
This Is the last stretch.
The finish is near.
Hit your last gear.
Lean across the line,
With steeze.
STOP THIS IS THE POLICE!
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
My seed was planted.
My home was growing,
I couldn’t believe what life had shown me
Love,
I have witnessed blessings from above,
But none were they as appreciated as love
I love my wife,
With her shape taken directly from her mother,
Earth, he skin ton resembled the most nurturing soil,
Each curve flowing into the next
With such precision a machine could only attempt to mimic.
Her eyes could tell no lies,
Pools of brown that turned my world upside down.  
And my children,
Young and in love,
With life, just as I had taught them.
They turned to the land every time they needed a friend,
After all they knew where I conceived them,
The stars in their eyes, so beautiful, people would orbit,
Their gravity was unmolested,
They were children of the wind
I could do little to stop, them.
Nothing could take this lion off his throne.
My mane was long and strong.
No beast would dare infringe upon my family.
Nor man.    
But white devil never known my land,
Never known my children,
Never known my people.
As I protect my pride,
I watch,
I watch the lands, ravaged.
I watch,
I watch my people, locked and chained
I watch,
I watch my family, crying from pain
I watch sun lose its shine.
The animals lose time,
Our gold does not glitter anymore,
Our blood has spilled
Disbanding the throne.
Now,
After we left our mother at home,
In shackles,
We bow our weeping heads,
Hoping for a morsel,
Her children need to be fed.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
Under the cover of night
A knight and a long knife
Ready to stick ready to slice
He looks mad tonight...  

The darkness is deep.
And black,
Black Like the lac sittin out front.
The notion of movin’ inconspicuous is masked
With the shadow of guilt
Swallowing any spark of light
Threatening to dissolve the lust over darkness
Projected by a mind shrouded in grey space.

So he sits low.
Eyes shaded by his fro.
He's patient.
An attribute many deems worthless,
He basks in its tide,
It washes over him with powerful waves of humility
Cleansing any possibility of being replicated.
Never in this life time.

Each step he takes is a movement in the composition of time.
Its flow is powerful but only under a benign face.
The dynamic is only determined after an attempt to cross him.
His mission is calling,

It has led him to this darkness.
The forests of skeletons
Infesting the closet space of his mind only confuses.  
He has realized his afflictions.
Seemingly they are lost in the black.
He watches the politics he has been sent to stop.
It’s disgusting.
But his mission is clear.

The path to success is not.
The path he has chosen is unique.
It has led him into the belly of the beast.
His intel was correct.
His approach is dangerous.
The chance of defecting is high, but he's betting on his will.
As his age grows so does his determination.
With every second passed he stands more ready.

And as the darkness consumes more of all he has built,
And as emotions of despair, pain, embarrassment, loneliness, and worry
weigh down his proud shoulders,
a peculiar spasm of creation happens.

He finds something.
He finds...
Well, he finds himself.
Every ounce of his frail, unmolested, un-influenced self,
Before he discovered lies, and suffered cries,
Before time played its tricks and stole his youth,
Before he started prayin’ for a direction to sin,
Before he discovered his truth.

Now he contemplates.
It’s never too late. He can change.
But His mission stays the same.
After all that is why he searches the dark.
To improve his third eye.
To absolve the blind.
He will not achieve perfection
but the end of his mission will come.
Remember he walks through time it does not move him.
Its blakops, the subconscious thought.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
Drum up the emoticons of Tweeners
Lost between the couch cushions
Smoking on Cush,
                               Listening to lines of lying lions.
No soul,
             Symbols twisted into idols
Non-paralleled,
                         Prophets for profit
Refusal to obey convention
Convection will guarantee a feature flight
                                   To where?
                                    I don't know.
                                   Nowhere near never, never land
                                   The fall will forever fragment followers
                                   Peons of lies, hope, and mirrors
                                   Cause is not lost, for change
                                   Moons tide motions for…
The ebb of conscious thought, drowning the flow of seceded freedoms.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
What is it to be free,
What is it to be a man
What is a free man?
These are questions I debate
As I am under lock and chain
In the lower tier of a ship
Destined for more ****.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
I’m locked up
Rapunzel 5th floor view
Witches Brew keeping me sub-due

        Mind wanders delirious
        Phantom sounds intrude a mind’s
        Creek of thoughts creeping
        Into inebriated contemplations
                      Would she ride fast or slow

A day dream delirious images of a past
Love interrupts
                       She hushes me, the 4-walled prison is white and painted in rains of vitamin, leaked in      
                        through portals propped open with a warm breeze taking the virginity of white curtains,
                       we embrace.

I erupt.
Fantasies flood the ever expanding corners of my mind
Drowning my emotional state with movie clips
Reminiscent of love that should be forbidden
                She smiles from ear to ear.
                 my heart stops,
                 then travels north, constricting my only freeway of life.

I give no fight
With a limited supply, I only want to waste it on you.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
In chains trying to make change
Arrange for a plane to far away plains
In vain he hopes to stand
On his two feet but love, he cannot believe. So much pressure he bought it no receipt. I got these white collars stressing me, telling me, wear your tie pick up your feet, please, my ancestors didn't fight to see, me, 36 floors up fashion hanging me, from the metaphorical tree. No they won't see me groveling on my knees. I'm a proud black man dyeing to be, free, and its funny cause we all dyeing to be, something, and time don't cease and we just micro-living in peace, or pain, or plain vanilla.

(Columbus day)
In a noose finding proof
Board a boat to a faraway moat
Round we go, at least he's afloat
In a sea of uncertainty,
certainly, he can handle what he see's
But what about what he feels
I don't know what's worse.
The loss or the hurt.
I see the day as the end of natural earth.
Borders crossed never to be returned.
The order was established I'm still fellin the aftershock. They mock my art, mock my creativity, try to mock the essence of me. But in a sense its good, I guess, allowing free expression to get this stress off my chest. Blessed I feel every day to know I aint got to go. The box that surrounds me is just metaphorical. Even the rules in place are deplorable, meanin ignorable. If it don't help it hurt and the new jim crow need some work. But as long as I can escape it, as long as I can break out the box, as long as I can stand on two feet, the oppressor will never catch me on my knees in a noose or fighting to get loose. My mind is already liberated, my education has focused my hatred, and I realized they the ones that need the savin.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
My dreams have a Hollywood camera feel
I see myself standing giving a good yell, hell
No matter what I be doin', I know that camera never be sleepin'
On me, it has to stay creepin'
My mind state is always dreamin', imagine
A man whose lives in dreamland
Yea that’s me, believe it if you can.
Fantastical.
Adventures. Mr. Fox is dead, he left his head,
Or wait, the tail.
I use it as my vial,
Hidden are my coerced thoughts.

The camera pans right, watch me fight.
The camera pans left, watch the death,
Of reality, for it’s all a fallacy.
We are all lost
Following a Shepard, confused
Lost and mistaken.
This camera, promotes what has been taken,
Our souls.
Escaping through the peepholes of our consciousness, leaving behind only traces of our former glory, where personification was unthinkable and Natures laws included humans. Rain was not push button controlled, and you couldn’t tell snow to blow. Where water was free and not bottled for clarity.

yea,
this camera controls me.
stealing my memories, gee.
who would have thought.
a digital dream--catcher.
except this time it catches,
my happiness,
desires, and dreams, real
motivation is killed.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
My shadow creeps up the portals wooden frame
My knees shake, advising I brake.
My reality becomes obscured
Conjure an excuse, quick somethin’ absurd
Nothin’s comin’, the chains tiein’ me to home were frontin’,
Ropes pulling me into a sea of I know nothin’,
I'm pushin’ for peace
Slow down feet
The pool I'm jumpin’ into, infinity deep
I can't sleep,
Or eat
So I creep,
The decisions of past whippin’ me in the back
Lashes cuttin’ flesh of black
As soon as I cross that threshold no lookin’ back
They got a noose hangin’ for my neck
I feel its unbearable weight with every single step
I can't allow the calloused rope build regret
So I allow my mind to prep
I'm ready,
Ready to break it
Ready to break free
I’m choosin’ between life and death
Between hell or high water
I have little to barder
The price is set high
Everything I owned
Taken on the sly
So I'm left wonderin’ how and why
How can I disappear?
And
Why can't I stop it?
But to be honest I gotta drop it
At this point I'm at the brink
I'm only left to think
I got 10 steps to the beginnin’ and end
Bye, bye old friend
Time is all but of the essence
Seems like it will depend
Am I unworthy, don't matter currently
Sweatin’ buckets, **** it.
I done bit off my fingernails
Pulled out my hair
Ventured to the farthest reaches,
Of my mind
Trust me there ain’t much up there
But air.

The light of the day catches my eye
Sweat forms mixin’ in my cries
It reminds me I'm awake,
I got somethin’ to feel.


We froze
Dead silent Halt, finally.
A moment, we stole.
We weren't ready to let it all fall
Moments of past concentrate on a face
It seems I can't forget good ol’days
So the next life at this moment can only be brutal
I know nothing ‘bout it
I know the pain is too much I already can't tout it
I prayed to my gods
I prayed to all gods.
I prayed to anyone willin’ to carry my pain
Found out other felt much the same
So again I am left standin’

And you can believe and didn't plan it
I'm breakin’ out
My opportunity is now.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
You know when you get
Drunk and squeeze a bottle neck
Super tight so as not to forget
This bottle of courage makes me
And I spit loud and casually
To all that listen perplexed
Wondering what's next
This guy can't be real
This guy got ***** appeal
Sounds kinda funny, we'll keep him
Pet monkey
Hahaha
O please, o please, o please. This ***** playing you with ease cause even in my drunken moment I spit words well let me spell it out for you the way I grip this bottle neck heck might as well be a tech the bullets are my vocals leave you hopeful then you hear my joke and you just realized this ****** well spoke
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2013
Life is like a box of chocolates.
I didn't know I would get
a brown eyed beauty
with a nice lil' *****
and she's cool see,
she been on her own vibes since
before the age of 5,
then we vibed.
now we live.
she decided I was her guy,
I decided to pursue this fly
cutie with a 'tude like, "shoot me,
she
has me hooked like a tuna at sea,
tamed me like a tiger and oh so lovely!"
Now I got 5 on it
thinkin' 'bout doublin' down
she wavin other girlies like,
"bye haters,
see ya laters
Im wit my man right now, bout to get"
XxXxXxXXxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXX
BlakOps Feb 2012
World War this, Critical think that
For what? Me ain' kno no white man struggle.
Might as well be the business of a muggle, juggle
the thoughts leading to actions,
leading to memories,
Of greater things than this chair
this table
this paper.
Yes paper, we all need paper.
Fixes all problems, makes all faker.
All prophesized by a great man, Weber.
See the fornification of men onto women must be of great importance to the survival of a familial structure which opposes the direction humankind pushes societies boundaries.

STOP. I blacked out.
What the **** just came out my spout...


Nonsensical happenings in a blackboard dreamland
Chalk dust monsters attack.
I react.
Evil vampires swoop
Come try to **** my blood
Impossible.
My veins are dry.
Zombified, I am.
I’m sorry teach,
You took it all already.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
You rely on your hero—in  
He must fly, high
In the grey skies, save you—in
Chances at making it
Past rock bottom.

Your Hero—in  
A survivor
A man brok—in
From time
Your Hero—in

The man you must survive,
His emotions, your demise
Your Hero-in
Weak in his will
Bent like hands of time.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
Planet Rock bumps the box
Cardboard floors, spin some more
Floetry lesson on every corner

Not old enough am I.
But jealous, yes I.

My windows open to times past
Times filled with hop & hip
Soul & Blues &
Rhythm too.
That music for the soul,
           Music that fills the streets,
                     Music filled with love, peace and chicken grease.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
I’m feeling a deeper connection
Can I share my affection…with you?
Only you
I’m not head over heels
You don’t complete me, as far as I know,
But there is something more, you’re
Not like others, way more of a rider
Way more I can’t decipher
Your aura emits love, share
With me, with care,
You and I will reach heights
Only physically conceivable with flight
Mentally free, ready grow roots with you
Red, gold, green
The anthem of you and me
I know you feel Jah’s grace
Same as me, I see in your face
Though I know you hide your heart
Jah love flow through me
Bring passion to thee
Open heart, open mind
Only to penetrate see
only to feel love
Only to feel we
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
You know the ones
Fellas’ fulla ice
Runnin’ around spitin’ dice
Love um ****’um, leave’um
Underachieva, please believe in ya,
Boy.
Lies to **** Christ,
Kissin’ the lips of death with every last breath,
A ***** left pressin’ everything in the way needless to say this left him
Stretched.

Up in his mind he lost track of time
He been there done that and decided he could get back
But didn't and now he's pitted his mind against a fitted
and some nikes
and still his life falls down the pipes,
he lost it at a small price
Just a few clothes shoes and hoes
Who knows maybe that all he needed though,
Hell bro maybe that's we all need it more.
We left worryin’ bout food with nuttin’ to do,
our economy ****, man now we *******,
he got out when he was young in his prime actin a fool
**** the best times in life
What happens to us left to die?

You know the ones the king of vice
The ones that love to spit dice
Yea you know the king of vice
The ones who paid the price
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
I’m lost in the world.
Trying to find my way
Blind, feeling for the ground
I crawl on my hands and feet
Forgive my nature
I try to be a humble man
Fast life envelops me, sometimes
You see.
Though humble I am curious
Much like Eve, before the sin
But I have fallen,
I didn’t have a choice
It is what was to be done,
No matter.
Though curious I am courageous
Much like Robin Hood, before the end
But I stopped giving
I had a choice
I only have a few regrets
Who cares?
Though courageous I am young
Much like my peers, but I admit it
But I still don’t get it
I ask too many questions
I’m scared to make a step in the dark
I analyze too much
I make too many I statements
Somebody Stop!
…Me…
Critique is welcomed.
new
BlakOps May 2012
new
the time is ticking
the hands, spinning
my feet, sticking
hoping for the trinity
I find myself stuck
between divinity
the gray area
seems like infinty
My regrets stick with me
shakin um seems tricky
money, cars, clothes, hoes
thats all my n**s know
not me though
no
follow me, past the vanity
the regrets seem to vanish
as if we planned it
what I life without wants
a life full of plesant haunts
sugar plum dreams
filled with chocolate streams
and everything that was
is not what it seems
then you see your queen
on a hill above the rest
you seem a little blessed
so try something new
anything new
sometimes thats
all we can do
BlakOps Feb 2012
Word is bond
Yea
Word is good
yea
Word is truth
Yea
Word is action
Naw
Action is bond
Yea
Action is good
Yea
Action is truth
Yea
Action is change
Exactly.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
When I die,
Look at my hands.
They will tell my story.
Are they old and warn
Or
Are they young and new?

My hands should be used,
Swollen,
Cracked,
Scarred.
They deserve a medal of honor.
My family depended on them.
My wife found comfort in them.
My children discovered protection under them.

Focus on the fingers
They are swollen, ready to cook sausages    
Focus on the fingernails
They are cracked, a microscopic grand canyon.
Focus on the palm
They are scarred, a farmers plot of scarred earth  
Focus on the back
They are black, too many years in the sun

For I used my hands.
They rocked my children to slumber.
They caress my wives face with love.
They fired shots when we needed protection.

Focus on my hands when I die.
They tell my story.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
If I had to have one
I regret that I regret this
But it seems too common to ponder on
Still I must
Careful though has been given
All others are forgiven
Life’s calculations are taken
Still I must conclude
One Regret
If I had to have one

I regret Not  remembering the times I laughed till I cried,
or till I fell to the floor and rolled,
or smiled from ear to ear cause my face was smitten with funny.

It seems memories of the minor,
Of the,
Mal-experience dominate what could be
A scare free history.
Critique is welcomed.
See
BlakOps Feb 2012
See
You can see the lovers eyes.
They dote
As if nothing is broken
Clearly hoping
Dreaming,
No, believing
in a future tense
Such evidence
Is
Pretense.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
Stand up
Stand up
Stand up proud on the soapbox
U got something to say?
Say it
Say it
Say it proud on the soapbox
U ready now?
Get up
Get up
Get up on that soapbox
(Speaker crackles)

Hi.
Crowd: hi!

My name is Prince L and I'm here to offend you.

Crowd: gasp!!!(Murmurs)

so settle down. it seems I can't reach your standards of presentation. is my hair to *****? are my clothes to cheap, hell anyone can see, I wear my **** proudly,

Crowd: gasp harder!!! He did not!

I did, oh **** I forgot I'm not supposed to cuss, o well too late, watch it unfold, my fate. this is my first time on the soapbox, let's talk about that, the box, is it needed? People use it as a trough to feed these stagnant ideas of life and how to live it. Why does everyone need to be categorized and seeded?

Crowd: hmmmmm....

The disparities between race in class are magnified cause we are gentrified, so we all feel polar to the other, opposite the fact we are born from another, check me I have love for you because you are you no matter your crew. O you have a conflict of view, don't matter unless u mad hatter tryin to riddle your way through the middle, cause in reality most of us are in this middle group, are you following? You're a regular sleuth.

Crowd: huh? We want truth.

Try this on for size. I think you might find, the separation between elite and u is a lot, spot the differences?  if you were part of the one you wouldn't be arguin with everyone. They got lawyers for that, they mouths stay strapped ready to ****** from you, so don't worry boo keep jaw jackin while the keep straight jackin, stealin, thievin, everything you see, reapin, the earth of its resources slowly turning it to hell. Its not a perception its a perpetual. why you think they always gathering, resources, yea they planning it, to own the world, don't be a fool.
Crowd: no way!!

I'm tellin you pray.  Appreciate the ppl who stand upon the soapbox, why? Cause they be fightin for every ones freedom. No matter the cause, no matter the fight,
Accepting thoughts and criticism
BlakOps Feb 2012
Still we sin
Still friends
Still trying to climb
Still behind
Still waiting
Still under achieved
Still under believed
Still blamed
Still unpaid
Still wasting
           Away
Still uneducated
Still hoping
Still praying
Still hated
Still my people
Still need freedom
Still need to be one
Still need to be brave
Still struggle everyday
Still trying to get away
Still this society seems still
Waiting still...
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
Still waters run deep
Benign, at first
Thoughts seep in,    
             Creep
Through near invisible cracks in your walls
                                                      Fall,­
They will. Don't
             Sleep.
I don’t want you to miss it.
If the wall stands
You were made of a better
               Man.
If not it wasn’t made to be.
Mind you might not be the only one.
For your undoing has me undone.
Left hoping for another chance of saving you
                                       some.
                                     No fun, for the both of us.
Trying to prove it wasn't just,
                                         lust.
Better yet,
Prove we had            
                                        trust.
I lost the better part of both of
                                          us.
In this fog of deep and old,
I lost what was once to
                             behold.
The mist grows heavy,
Calms all water, as it runs deep.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
She said, “You’ll be alone till your old and dead"
Well not in those exact words but feel the verb
      ALONE.
Like a Stab to the heart from Al Capone
I thought I had what it takes
               To find love, happiness, possibly a suitable mate
                    Or two, or three,
                         See I never thought it would be just me
I think she just tamed this tiger.

It was thought to be impossible…
In that one phrase I became trainable,
Undeniable, she put me in my place—definable.

           Will I find a queen, even a princess will do
           I have to wince
           Pinch myself into reality
           I'm making girls mad at me
           Chasing one after the other
           Come on ladies holla at a brotha
           Save me from my wallowing sorrows
           Just want a heart to borrow
           Doesn’t have to be solid, jus’ tryin to make it to tomorrow

Sittin’ on a pile of my own lonely thought
           Epiphany!
Do I know love?
           Have I given it away?
Probably steal it everyday
Might have met it once or twice
I have not a clue.
I obviously don’t know love.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
I slipped the chains.
My wrists were cut, never the same.
I ducked, couldn't believe my luck.
My mind raced
I couldn't keep pace, I placed,
The authority to move
In my faith, it proved
To be best at escape.
With this, I left the rest to fate.

My legs moved fast,
I could believe they were this brash,
Bustin throught the air like they had to prove they could make it away from this obey ****. Truth? my mind must have been influencing them, cheering on an old friend.

At that moment my body was in peace
Running in sync, I stole a moment to think:

I found my memories, in a box under lock and key. I broke it open, shattered the lock in a single stroke. A flash my life had past, first loves won and lost, friends of new and past, life of  mine on blast.

I slipped
My mind skipped
I'm back in the present
My escape is relentless,
I press on through the ***** of dangers storm. I can't be touched.
Destiny has given me the blessing of luck.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
Time is Infinite
There was not beginning
And
There will be no end
It goes on
Never ending in faraway lands
Never ending where I stand
So what's the difference

Time is finite
We live by it
And die all the same
Our existence is only defined by it
Dictating how we move
Dictating what we prove
So what's the difference

Time is relative
The microcosm,
that is life,
Defines time as a measure,
Control was relinquished
Long ago, when we decided to exist.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
I got 20 answers
But you have 21 questions.
I’m lost trying to find answer.
What is the question?
The gerbil is moving, fast
Thoughts are under construction.
There is a delay…
   Fear
A hard emotion to penetrate
Necessary for a proper foundation
To a relationship;
Built on attraction,
Bombed by trust,
Saved by passion,
This relationship will be built.
There is a delay…
   Unknown
The absence of
Light.
Where do I turn?
Please turn on your light.
I need someone to follow.
Will you allow me.
There is a delay…
   I’m scared and my vision of the future is hazy.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
Blackbored,
Mockin’ my sin.
Off topic thoughts
Lost in clouds
Wait.                                                            ­                                    
I’m day dreamin’ again.
Gettin’ a headache
Starin’ at this papermate.
Prayin’ for ink volcanoes
As papers lay waste,
Book bag graveyards claim
Tree sashimi
But wait.                                                            ­                              
I’m sleepin’ again.
Tan colored walls, I’m fiendin’ again.
Blue waters, clean air
Sand freckles on Brown skin
Time is not of the essence
White webs claim to be beds,
Only to claim time as a victim
Stop.                                                     ­                                         
Lost me again.
Starin’ at a screen
Colorful words fill white walls
The desktops hardly seems like a substitute
Drones stare harder
Teeth cut through chain
Walls crumble beneath my feet
Halt.                                                       ­                                       
Where are my friends?
A partner in crime
Trouble is requirement,
Adventure is not a doubt

                                                          ­                 But wait.
                                                           ­                                            I’m only dreamin’ again,
                                                                ­                     Fiendin’ again,
                                                          ­                                     Where is reason?
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
Where's my mule?
Matter fact where the 40 acres?
                I'm half that and didn't even see 20
                                            W.T.F.
Am I invisible?
                Must be
                400 million, too many dead
                And they still can't see
                They couldn't survive without us
Lash, lift
               We only 12% now
               Lost in the crack
               The pinnacle of opposites
               Dark as night
               Being cast in ignorant light
               Losing our youth
Lash, push
               Every reason to fail
               Work opportunities scarce
               I think they forgot who paid
               We we're left to hang
               ***** of pain
               Destroyed with vain
Still we survive.
Critique is welcomed.
BlakOps Feb 2012
Ever wonder why they call them woman?
Like is it woeman?
Or is it,
Woahman?

In any case it can be both?

First sight is like WOAH!man.
Then after a while,
It’s like woeman.
Like, which is it?

Is it both?

Maybe,
Like, just maybe,
It’s the product
Of Both, yeah both.
Critique is welcomed.

— The End —