In school, they used to teach us phrases like:
The fast car, or, The big tree.
But never did they mention the man who,
Upon losing his education like his keys,
Takes a fast car into a big tree-
On purpose.
Then, in school, they taught us drugs are bad,
*** is dope, crack is wack.
Yet never did they once speak of the father who,
Uses drugs to feed his kids,
so that they grow and feed their kids too-
Through purpose.
And, in school, they showed us pictures.
Of Syphilis and AIDS,
To scare us.
But, once again, the graphs and facts were missing,
As though seeing was trespassing upon some truth-
Some purpose.
So I pick up a pen and write:
A suicide story, a poem from the block.
And I sketch a Polaroid of a shaken scene,
Of the things I am not. So that I,
Yes I may lead a life-
With purpose.