She comes to class and goes
“There’s bees in my Head”
Then pulls out
Another mug
Of coffee
Which happens
To be the cause

Another comes
Face on the verge of tears
“He did it again!”
We all know who
“He” is
Then proceeds to
Accept hugs
While giving
An in depth narration

Another comes in
“I’m, just, dying”
She proceeds to get
More hugs
While another friend
Calls her “hot”
And she insists she’s not

The fourth comes in
She’s been sacrificing
Her free time
To attend this class
And her sad tired smile
Says it all
She gets hugs too

And here I am
In the middle
Suffocated
...
Am I emotionally immature?
Am I too much of a cynic?
Is it me, or is it them?
Am I just different?
Or too self conscious?
...
Why do they have so many problems?
...
Then class starts
And I turn to our model,
A plastic skeleton dubbed
-Bony Bonez

And lose myself
In the charcoal

We eat shawarma and we share da pizza
afterwards partying, never alone on dat gig
meet a *** just to bang her wit my homez
me salutin' to carlos, yep, it's like dat:

he be spending some time behind bars now
ain't no biggie, we rely on da boyz
neva had nuttin' but now we ******' top-modelz
as maxwell argued: "open your mouth, i'm gonna ***"

watch, how we double our profitz...
da hottest gang under da sun
once bonez said:" man, we be stars quite soon!"
and each memba represented his part

he told me: "sit down and write barz"
cause dem gangsterrappaz mostly be phony
we no lelleks, i got men behind me
187 street gang, sampler number four

damals meinte bonez:
"ey wir sind bald stars!

und jeder aus der gruppe übernimmt
sein'n part" (he)

er hat zu mir gesagt:
"setz dich hin, schreib bars! (los)

"denn von den meisten
gangsterrappern stimmt kein satz!" (nä)


back in the days bonez
told me:

"we gonna be stars
every one of us
gonna write his part" (nä)

he told me to sit down and write
bars (aight)

cause german rappers be
phony (nä)

tizzop is the lover of
a single mother  

years ago tizzop
knocked at our door
nighttime the remains of
day splattered across the floor

when you think of tizzop:

think of your last
déjà vu and what you
felt
think of early immigration:
the german belt

tizzop: a combination of
people lovin/people hatin'
pride of a nation yet
last letter standing in a
poem without ending

long time ago tizzop
knocked at our door
nighttime the remains of
day splattered across the floor

tizzop hungry; he asked for
food while slowly taking his hat off
to my mom; she delighted since she
saw into the eyes of a warrior acting
quite politely

then tizzop fainted and fell on
the floor obviously he was starving
mom fried some chicken

later at the table tizzop gobbled
bonez'n'skin;
the more i looked at tizzop's
traits the way he moved his
cheeks and chewed his food
i sensed that we were  
kin

nobody talked: familiar
silence filled the room

the more i looked at tizzop's
bossy smile and his
black teeth i was
reminded of something

like the déjà vu of a  
déjà vu

strong connection between
tizzop and me: he
stayed at our place and soon became

my brother
little by little mom turned him
into her lover

wanted to **** him but
didn't
**** it this poem gotz to be
hidden

Broken Hearts and Bonez
Tailbone to the Side
Ears Lost, Frowns Upside-down
Eyes High in the Night Sky
Around and In, but Never down
Crystal Diamond & Empty Wine Bottles
One Twin Tree to a New Way of Life
A Forgotten ***** never Loses Their Path
Destinyé Lost ~ Fortunes Found OxO