I was thirteen when I broke my wrist for the first time,
Miming Cinderella Man's fists as they jabbed faster than jets through the sky.
He was blue collar, blue jeans, blue bruises and blue eyes;
Waiting for his chance, and then taking it by the blind-side,
He taught me the meaning of a left hook to life and coming back from behind.
I was raised on Cinderella.

She was thirteen when daddy read her the tale that first time,
and she grew up wishing to be Cinderella, miming her words and her stride,
She wore blue dresses, smoked blue crystals, cried blue tears with blue eyes;
Waiting to be saved by a prince with blood bluer than money could buy,
Cinderella taught her to sit back and wait for her princely perfect guy,
She was raised on Cinderella.

We were raised on Cinderella,
We were twenty and change when we locked blue and green eyes,
Mine had darkened to green by that eye-locking time,
Life tends to darken things; It's just how it goes, and when mine
took that hue, things were no longer so blue.
Because even though we were both raised on Cinderella,
Princesses and Paupers don't find love; When they do it isn't "true"
Because no blue crystal smoked could cloak the pain and disguise;
No fairytale magic can hold back real tears from real eyes.
My Cinderella was a prize fighter;
Her Cinderella was the prize,
but the stories are different, and in the end, both are lies.

Shaking with all the coffee
wood tables, stairs, chairs-
this cafe is made with the slain,
with old spirits. It's too warm.

Out there walk by the day-mares; toothless and alone,
confused and wandering.
Family in prison, army, lost.

Others waltz with bulging
plastic bags,
adorned with beloved brand names,
kissed with reciepts,
blessed for ignorance
"beautiful."

A tiny girl across teh street with a smudge on her face smiles.
I pull a thin curve, wave a little.
Unto a land that no longer cares.
No longer breathes.

-lying on a bed with satin sheets and stacks of cash

-pastel pink lingerie and a matching pistol to go with it

-black chokers with pearl earrings

-crystal chandeliers to break

-making your girl ******

Mirrors, paintings
Mirrors, paintings
of me.
Cut fingertips bandaged nicely
Always asked for, always acknowledged,
always gifting the best
each holiday season.
People are so modest, people are so kind,
People created the devil
called Wine.
That's what makes people oh-so
Divine.

The rich will always be rich,
Computers, clean body, nice clothes,
Proper homes, not shacks.
Elite schools, branded
Motorcycles, jewelry

The poor will always be poor,
A pen, a marvel
Firewood, abandoned train tracks
YMCA funded classes,
Hand-me downs, nakedness

Grandfather, father,
Son. Same lineage, same burden
To pass down
Generation
To
Generation
To
Generation.
A Never-ending cycle

Cruel game of Russian roulette,
Spin the revolver, watch it
Turn, pick it up, iron to temple
--BANG BANG-- you're dead.
The more the rounds, the
More
Lethal
It
Gets

It is a gap that cannot
Be plugged,
A boulder that cannot be put down,
Like Atlas holding the sky,
If released, the sky and earth
Collide, and we die--
All of us.
Everyone.

If I could buy time I would save my last dime
To when it comes to when I'm dying
And tell the world as I was lying
The world can change
Just offer some change
To the poor on the street The hearts and the brains
Stereotypes are the death of humanity and if such continues caviar eating blacks and less fortunate whites and non scholastic Asians will begin to lose insanity

Do you want a slice of cake,
might keep you going just for now.
But as you are not used to eating,
you have the hooves we'll keep the cow.

The modern world is dying younger,
unlike those in the poorer east.
Who die through lack of food and water,
we're dying because we're obese.

In this modern city arena,
it seems our portion is the more
free health and overwhelming safety
but we save that small slice for the poor.

The waste is massive, over burdened,
tons of food are chucked away.
As we stick to our sell by clearance
just think for what so many pray.

Do we need such a massive slice,
even half would fill our needs.
The west gets fat the east is wanting
scrubbing around for scraps and seeds.

So next time when feasting in McDonalds,
and washing down with large milkshake.
Try and see your own reflexion
and you'll see whom eats all the cake.

Before you leave that busy food-hall,
just have a quick look in the bin
and you will see the unholy waste,
perhaps you'll also see the sin.

The slicing of this planets cake  
seems to be divided wrong.
So cut it into a fairer slices
and send it to where it belongs.

My cook is late with dinner and I hear no clanging of pans,
She's usually prompt with dinner be it soup, steak or hams,
Now my butler won't answer when I ring the bell,
He usually attendants swiftly now I begin to dwell,
CLEANER,  CLEANER I yell and I scream,
WHERE ARE YOU ALL? I'M HUNGRY WHERE'S TEA?
Beside my pipe I notice a slip,
And written using my finest pen tip,
Is a note so absurd it reeks of a mockery,
Their ****** syndicate has won the lottery.

Hey sir, please don’t go,
We need you so,
You could help us if you really tried
Don’t turn your back,
See here, what we lack,
You can put us back on track
Help, we’re so sick,
Someone aid us, quick,
There’s a war raging on outside
Someone please be aware,
Our bodies are bone and bare,
Turn around, sir, just at least pretend to care

Blood and money
All you want is money,
Smile as you go past, no one finds this funny
What you don’t see, you don’t care about
Riding head upright, while we all bow and shout
Riches, riches, sell some of your riches
Replace them with the grey bodies in the ditches
What you don’t see, you don’t care about
Riding head upright, while we all stand and shout

Who knew falling in love could lead
me to forget about my suicide

And then falling out of love made me bleed more than ever in my life

A soul that lives in person can't make it through a lonely night

Pieces of me have left, through and through, I have lost my mind

Is falling in love the disease or the cure that's fallen from my sights

Cruising the streets with speakers banging through the night

I wish I felt it like you say you feel on yourself when the street lights

A rosary isn't holding me down whenever I try to fight

They say alcohol dependency is for the weaklings of this life

Of that and drug abuse I'm absolutely terrified

That once I fall through the cracks there's no coming back to life

I've been doing wrong so long I'm not sure what it means to do right

I wish I was like beautiful people birthed into the very light

That people say they see when they meet their destiny and die

I never saw God when I saw a bullet make a body fly

A halo wasn't helping and no Angels came from the cloudy sky

From my first breath I've been breathing in millions of lies

Within those lies truth has been told through my own lines

Around blocks and corners stretching past your heart and mine

But who will grasp the truth when the night has made us blind

The rich take elevators while the poor have ladders to climb

And they wonder why the average person can't make it to work on time

They tether us to sinking bricks and wonder why we can't escape the bind

As least we all found love before believing in our hope of genocide

Who knew falling in love could overmatch my hate of wealthy whites

Temporarily looking into her eyes can make me forget all of my plights

But when I saw her fall out of the sky like a bullet riddled kite

My heart cut in half along with hers you can't distinguish if hers is mine

Playing Brother Ali as my hope shatters leaving me behind

The shards of glass that hold my hate have entered into my eyes

So afraid to lose my mind but instead I lost the sun that shines

My body is an empty marker left to attach a sullen shrine

The music and the loss and the tears, tear through my will to fight

My daughter, innocence, deserved better in her final light

Who knew losing my love would lead me back to my thoughts of suicide

Every day I breathe is another day of do or die

I never prayed, but please God, save me from my poor design

Being alive in this world is too often seen as a crime

Being alive in this world is only a matter of time

Staying aligned is simply a matter of hope or fly

Staying alive is a master of matter holding back the sky

Join me as I say goodbye to my innocent little kite

If all memories fade in time feel free to let go and push me to the side

Real love lives freely outside until death returns home to the inside

While rain falls as I collect my pen and paper and begin to write...