Why do we allow our women to be disrespectfully depicted
Falsely in forms of harmful fiction.
Make them hate themselves with malicious media,
I think your beautiful forget what their feeding ya.
It doesn’t matter what I think, you need to believe it too.
What I gotta do for you to believe in you?
Why do we let our women get destroyed for the sake of “art”
Do the men hate the women because of one that broke their heart?
Where does the root of the problem start?
How can we fix it?
We can’t do it by fixing our diction.
Solely.
I mean that can’t be the only thing we do.
Change our actions and we may find the treatment.
Indeed this is something I believe in.

Make every Month memorable, Make every week worth it, Be sure to use every day to work on your dream, put your heart into every hour, make every minute matter, use every second to be successful.

Cause in the end, you gonna have regrets wishing you could do it all over again.

dozing off in classes, rhyming putting together classics if they are rated appropriately, I give away quotes for free, if it’s called rap it’s whack, it’s only impressive when called poetry. Looking for answers hopelessly, ask your self what is the question? Are you free to do what you want or is everything destined?

Visions of greatness, come with fearful thoughts “can I ever make it?”
Practice Patience. Young Traveler, enjoy your journey, it leads to your destination.

Sometimes I think like a killer. Yet I talk like a hippie. Trying to destroy demons, that I keep with me. Words are either the healer or harmer of wounds. But they don’t understand what you doing until they standing over your tomb saying your time came to soon.

Black or white which is superior.
Neither.
Therefore why is one inferior?
The outside of the home is meaningless
If you have a damaged interior.
Brown or red.
No differences.
Same results when we are all dead.
Humans will be ruined if they continue these comparisons
Regardless of our advancements
The way we think is embarrassing.

Put together words that paint pictures. Till I regain a sense of peace, until then let the ink from my pen hitcha. I’m here to redesign structures, reframe pictures. Rename fixtures. When I die they’ll say I brang scriptures, No false profit. Just problems I attempt to fix before some one else get too. If you don’t heal or harm they forget you. Your name Seven Socrates? The Name Fit you."