"jamal" poems
It was almost 10 oclock, their eyes heavy as rocks, Erik and Jamal headed home
The fork in the road that they've always known to mean they tread on all alone
They made their embrace and started their pace and Erik did not hasten much
Jamal however was quick to endeavor, because mama had told him to rush
They walked their separate ways, reflected on their days, and coveted what tomorrow would bring
At that very moment, their train of thought stolen, by the bellow of sirens they sing
A large police van rolled upon each young man, and flashed a light on each of their face
They told Erik hurry, his mom needn't worry, yet they questioned young Jamal's pace
They told him get down, he got on the ground and struggled in his discomfort
Erik heard a bang in the night, that had gave him a fright, and thought to himself where'd it come from?
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 12:59 PM UTC
At the Saudi Arabian Consulate,
In Istanbul, Turkey, I hear
Something dreadful happened, although
Details are as yet unclear.
Saudi born Jamal Khashoggi,
Journalist for the Washington Post,
Entered the consulate knowing that
It might not be a welcoming host.
An Apple Watch might seem useless.
Khashoggi's Watch, nevertheless,
Recorded his brutal beating and ******
According to the Turkish press.
But was it an Apple Watch, or had
Turkish authorities bugged the room?
Whatever the case, people are certain
That that’s where Khashoggi met his doom.
We know he entered the building whole.
We're waiting to hear more news releases,
For many fear that the journalist,
Exited the building in pieces.
When asked if he'd condemn the Saudis
If they had committed the ghastly deed,
Trump at first appeared reluctant
To criticize them or intercede.
The Saudis pay billions of dollars
For weapons, he said, to the USA.
And what's-his-name wasn't even
An American citizen anyway.
Later, Trump admitted that
We need a thorough investigation.
But sanctions involving money? No,
That would severely hurt our nation.
Meanwhile, the Saudis **** innocent
Yemenis with the weapons they buy,
And rectitude falls by the wayside
As bank accounts multiply.
-by Bob B (10-13-18)
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 11:44 AM UTC
Ae zindagi kya hassin naam tera
Hazaaron Mein Hai chehra tera
Aj beparda hai husno jamal tera
Sabhi ko hoti hai chinta teri
Kya ** agar na ** chinta teri
Chalo jite hai tuje aaj mein
Chohd chinta kal ki teri
Sochta *** kya hai zindagi
Fir dehk kar paani Ganga ka
Sabhi jawab milgae
Jese Ganga aati hai or
Samundar mai miljaati hai
Fir se baarish ke roop Mein wo
Himalaya me chali jaati hai
Ae zindagi tubhi waise lagti mujhe
Haasti hai rulati hai or kabhi udas
Kar jati hai tu
Fir es aatma ko us ek se ja milati hai
Ae zindagi maaza tera maut Mein Bhi aata hai
Ae zindagi kya hassin naam tera
Hazaaron Mein Hai chehra tera
Hazaaron Mein Hai chehra tera
By Abutorab dyer
Aug 2, 2020
Aug 2, 2020 at 1:47 AM UTC
Despite multiple accusations
Of ****** impropriety,
Trump still demonstrates
A false display of piety.
He knows his loyal fans out there
Would never, ever truly deceive him.
He denies whatever he wants
And they will all believe him.
Justice Brett Kavanaugh
Aspires for both fame and glory.
Somehow he got people to
Give credence to his manicured story.
Following Trump's slick advice,
He thought, "Hey, why not try it?
Whatever they accuse me of,
I will out-and-out deny it."
Putin said he hadn't meddled
In our twenty sixteen elections.
Although we know that Internet trolls
Were following his cunning directions.
Putin merely had to say,
"Mr. Trump, I did not do it."
That is all that Trump needed
To say to the world, "You see: I knew it."
Trump asked the Saudi king
If he had had a journalist killed
In Istanbul. That is where
Jamal Khashoggi's blood had been spilled.
The king and prince denied it. Trump,
Satisfied, said, "You see:
The king said they didn't do it.
His denial's enough for me."
Just deny whatever you've done.
That's the message we are getting.
Having to pay consequences
Can stifle your plans and be upsetting.
Just deny it, and you will have
All of your fans believing your tale.
Turn them all against the victim
To save your *** and stay out of jail.
-by Bob B (10-16-18)
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 1:29 PM UTC
We can hear: "caw caw! Ping ping!"
As we return to the bust of The Wiygg;
He who knowest thou deliver Burning Sword
To Sanjeet and Romesh Singh,
Those who beat their blood-soaked wings.
Once that particular door has been shut,
And twilight enfolds from within,
Lang, Rita, Jamal
And Hatesh P. Benjamin,
Where will you call home
Once the end of the night begins?
Oct 31, 2023
Oct 31, 2023 at 9:18 AM UTC
Ahmad Jamal and his classic tune Poincianno provided a backdrop
where I could relax and relate the poignant beauty
of the peace and madness back then surrounding
the Kennedy assassination.
Oscar Peterson churns out the notes
in a definitive yet light way
that would qualify as easy listening jazz
to some jazz buff in their weaker moments.
Eroll Gainer with his classic misty
haunts one with his
simple singularity of musical
paroxysms and leads into a fine repertoire.
George Shearing with his liltingness relaxed me
back then when I was recovering from the whole thing
And Camsey Lewis with his lightly penetrating rendition of
"The In Crowd" sustained my sense of humor and
helped me with my appreciation of mainstream jazz.
Cela, jazzmasters all to me
and yes like that light jazz
as opposed to poboy like Miles Davis
except for Charlie Parks
and yet I got into a Goth pianist Jack
then Thelonius Monk who was sorta jazzy
I acquired a mediocre taste for.
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 3:22 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Saudia Arabia
Protectors of the Islamic Faith
Is kingdom that’s not safe
Whose behavior makes one chafe
Under MBS it’s anybody’s guess
Who’ll be killed or at best
Locked away in a hotel
Until their wrists and ankles swell
Although the evidence is murky
In a motion that was jerky
At their embassy in Turkey
They killed Jamal Kashoggi
Before he could light a stogie
And chopped his body up
So as not to interrupt
Their plot to cover-up
How about the war in Yemen
That has no predictable ending
Seems to have ‘em hemmed in
And what they cannot hide
Is that it’s clearly genocide
Which the US is complicit in
In the name of King Salman
Look at the weapons that we send
What we can’t ignore
Are their actions we abhor
Which they must answer for
Or is it business as usuall?
Because of our refusal
To make them conform
To accepted norms
Which should set off alarms
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018. All rights reserved.
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 8:29 AM UTC
Welcome to America
Where they call it the home of the brave
While millions of Americans are working as slaves
Barely passing the minimum wage
As the government gives out food stamps to put out the rage
They check out our mailbox
They listen to our phone calls
They'd do anything to throw us
Back where we came from
Like a pack of animals
Like we're fresh out the zoo
While millions of citizens walk around
Without a fucken clue
About what the government is able to do
Welcome to America
Where they call themselves the land of the free
While 47 million people struggle with poverty
They got more food banks than schools
More negative media on the news
Names like Jamal, Raheem, Abdul
Can't get through an airport in peace
"Zainab Mustafa, Come with us please"
They look at my fam and think they got us all down
Like all immigrants are the same
Like we're all fucken clowns
Got the cops pulling me over for no **** reason
***** looks from left and right
As if I committed treason
They treat us like ebola
Like we're a fucken disease
Anything to get us to leave
No matter what we do,
It will never appease
As if Columbus was the first to walk this land
Not the people with painted faces and feathered bands
Have y'all forgotten the first people here were brown
not white?
Talking about freedom of speech
Like they own the bill of rights
The irony of the first amendment
Freedom of religion
Yet they've still condemned it
To practice anything other than their own
Expecting church to be attended
Expecting us to forget what we've known
"You're in America now! The past doesn't matter!"
I'm not here to fit in
Or kiss someone's *** to flatter
Welcome to America
Once known as Freedonia
Where the cities never sleep
Diagnosed with insomnia
As homeless shelters are packed
And crackheads fill the streets
As government officials lay on Egyptian cotton sheets
Welcome to America
Where there is no war
Where we watch your every move
And predict what's in store
Anything we can do to reassure
A more secure nation
Even if it means cleaning up these immigrant abominations
So have a wonderful stay
In our lovely USA
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 2:52 AM UTC
White privilege' a phrase I didn't understand
I accepted every man
And I assumed the rest of the world did too
Sure, a racist joke is fine, whether crossing a black or white line
It's just comedy after all, no malice is meant for a fall
Together we'll still stand tall
But then I looked outside of my world
Where the conscious stereotype in abundance sprawled
From another's point of view, it's a completely different view
Even in this time and day,
If your skin isn't 'white' you're likely to pay
A price, of some sort,
As professional worlds are warped
Why can't a black actor play James instead of Jamal
And what if you let the brown guy play the lead role
We are a multi culture,
Our screens should reflect the present and future
Who cares for the colour of your skin
Ability in your craft is how you should win
So, looking through some casting calls I see instantly,
The affect white privilege has on this community
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 7:44 AM UTC
My father bought me some gifts.
One was the biggest dollhouse;
With a doll, fashion clothes,
And all things that glitter gold.
With a frown I asked for more!
He then bought me a red car,
So my doll would be a superstar.
I shouted I needed more!
He then bought me a male doll.
I married them; naming him Jamal.
After, I started to ponder;
About all my father’s gift,
How he showered me with love,
But I only saw what he missed.
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 4:53 PM UTC
Steven
Hezeki
Andre..
Have all abused my love and made me into this cold person, hey I won't give them all the credit maybe it's something I've always possessed. Maybe I've always been this person and I just had to get stabbed alittle for it to become apparent.
Xavier
Vulnerability was at is finest. Who would've thought I'd let just anyone get a piece of me, like I'm one of those random mints that always end up in your possession, and somehow you don't work to obtain this candy it just comes and happens to get the job done and I am one to blame for thinking at a point of time it was okay.
Jamal
I feel bad for what I've done to you, and my karma probably awaits but I was bored with you..couldn't help it but at one point I was intrigued by your demeanor but like I said I was bored with you...and my karma probably arrived with
Chris
I hate free trials. They get you all excited about a game that your so anxious to play and while your enjoying it they tell you your time is up. You can't play anymore unless you sell your soul (buy the game) and once that ad pops up you question is the game even worth it. You wanted my ***** I wanted you to be mine..even risked a friendship for who knows what...karma proved to be a ***** but like you say love is love.
Tony
You genuinely made me laugh. But my heart was too cold and and too unsure to ever settle down with you because I am not for sell. You wanted me to be your African queen, but you forgot that an a queen is still a queen without a king. So karma might have missed me because for the first time in a long time I followed my intuition and didn't allow you to force commitment on my plate.. which is a good thing because now I have
DAQUAN..
All started with a Dm......a ************* twitter Dm....so far nothing is regretted, I hope your as genuine as you come across. I like you. My cold heart likes you hopefully it stays this way...
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 2:20 AM UTC
Kamla sits on the stairs outside a shop
Wearing a worn out sari, holding a stick
Her thick glasses dusted with dirt from ages
She keeps her left hand extended
Passerby's coins make up her living
Jamal is always on a crutch
He sleeps on the footpath outside the masjid
When one day, someone drove over him
But justice for poor is non-existent
But you
You stand in the middle of the road
While a line of cars wait
You burst crackers like it's your own backyard
The remanents splattering everywhere
Instead
Go light someone's life
Give Kamla something to eat
Give Jamal a blanket
Who may be tapping car windows at traffic signals
Begging, to overcome our ignorance
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 1:30 PM UTC
Fall leaves desperate love
Of the branches of hope
Like falling autumn leaves
From the trunk of a tree made hurricanes
Declared tricks
No promises
Where nothingness
Of people are afraid
Live and awe in their hearts
... Does not exist
Injustice to the pain ... ..... Or even a sense of sadness
all the feelings of life
Repel each other as grains of sand
From the land of vast desert
When the wind is blowing severe
Flying grains of sand
Embraced by the atmosphere
And fade away without the return of
And then
Buried feelings of pain
In the book of old memories
Still
Wind caressed the sand grains, such as rain drops
Returned to where she was
Cry I heard a bird flying in the sky
Pursues the mirage to deceive
Without the return of
And did not intend to leave
And still
Screams coming in at the far horizon
In vain
And the spirit of wandering
Slapped the light of the morning sun
End to the evening
And ends with the nightmares of the dark
Fear, despair ... ..... And a sense of failure
Verde evening injustice dark
And with no illusions and nightmares
And so
Every night before sleep
And then
I was looking for love is
Love harshly colored stone
Wounded and buried between the piles of stone
Time
Fell drops of dew
On the leaves of the flowers
And time of the hit
Lost
Jamal splendor
tow and shine
He also inspected the eye tears of joy
When
Lose love the old
Who assassinated Age
From the heart of a devout and female
Restricted it life constraints pain
Enlarge the heart by the young
And became a black eye in the life
And overshadowed by grief and deprivation
On the same innocent
Trick bright colors of life
And did not know
That behind these colors
Black nightmare
May prevail white dreams
And then
I could not see what is around me
Only
A broken heart
It pains me they break
I have no tears, only a few
Spilled on the cheeks
I do not know what ...
Why cry and ...
Only
"I might find out it does not really
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 10:10 AM UTC
My love is like a jasmine flower,
Dancing in darkness and light
Shaking the fragrance of passion.
In company, with summer
She fondles sweet dreams
Collecting them roses,
Giving them butterfly kisses
My love sleeps in a magical bed,
Woven by blue sky,
Adorned with moons and stars,
And colors of hot rumor,
All hugs her every night,
Collecting her dreams smiles,
And desire,
And plant them in my heart,
Roses of chastity,
Taking me with such a bliss
To the land of freedom and light.
Written by
Jamal Abboud
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 6:40 PM UTC
Love, this is the home of craggy sorrow
Each bleak house hugs a solitary widow
Waiting more at a pale silent window
Which portends the dead empty path
This carry the northern cold winds
Of early mornings into the gloomy strath,
Folding time, impatience and wrath,
And all day long, become friends
Footsteps' echoes and pattering of little ones,
Nabbing illusions of joyful shades of tones,
And miserable hearts those endowed anxiety,
And eyes, lips and noses always ready to cry,
Yet how they are innocent, ignorant and pretty.
O love, how the untold words are never dry,
And never desert me like the green in a cedar
Everlasting homage to warmth of leaves,
I doubt that my absence should less differ;
I believe when time rashly counts and leaves,
I should feel your waiting when I disappear
Holding close to my soul your rich serenity,
I should roam your world like a dead star;
Long ago vanished, yet glistens bright and clear
Like your sad eyes when full of precious tears
Those guard your peace and banish your fears.
Written by
Jamal Abboud
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 1:51 PM UTC
We work at three
'til the last of moons
crumbles in the sea.
We work for thee:
we work at noon.
Our life's a noun
our love's a crown
for bitter hell spawn
from some tortured
simple little sounds
of babies and fingers
and nails - not found.
Hush, now.
Our love stand still
our job's our will
far from secret thrills
we'll buy your will -
and even your father's
white ancient windmill.
It's a strange circuitry
our nature - ain't it?
Jamal doesn't talk:
he's been lying on
our friendly ground
'til we start to walk
'til he look like chalk.
Jamal, Jamal!,
what have you done?
You used to run free
with your brothers,
your sisters and me
- with the sirens happily
and merrily on the beach,
the Sun did set and you
and me and Ahmed
smoked and prayed
for a better day yet
you sold your soul
to the corporation
to the inflammation
to the ignorant creation
to the culture-starvation
// and you drink coffee
you go out at night
with your fine Armani suit
with your firing gun shoot
with your babbling babbling
lil' baby girl ain't a baby no mo'
lil' baby girl ain't a baby no mo'
she shoot she shoot she shoot
- to make the point is moot.
Where is your ancient fire?
Where is your cool, laid-back
tongue that spoke of Youth?
Where are your tambourines
and wings and strings and flutes?
They finished shooting the sky.
They finished. They finished.
The war is over. Glory hallelujah!
Your wife is gone. Her baby, too…
Now you don't know
how to walk at night
as you don't remember
nightmares of a butterfly.
You don't remember
nightmares of a butterfly
you don't remember
nightmares of a butterfly.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
A wide street,
Singing prelude to a smaller one,
Rests beneath the shade of pestilence-stricken houses,
Built one above the other,
Or so they seem to be.
And that wide street,
Tells no stories,other than what is evident,
A 'Misshapen Chaos',
Constancy of stampede,
Dust,unwilling to leave,
Trash,adamant enough to keep its place.
Yet,when you rush through all this,
A keen eye,
Might lend you some lunacy,
To see the beauty,
Beauty of ambiguity,
In this place,Shah Jamal!
Aye! Vague,that seems,
For how weak the people,
Unable to leave the state of constant suffering.
Yet strong enough to be here,
And to be here for life?
Still as we march down the street,
There are things.
'Things' of all sorts,
And things too intimidating for one to fix their eyes on them.
Perhaps,
Rather certainly,
More than eyes,
One's nostrils might suffer!
For an entire spectrum of odors,
Of all kinds,
Individually,however,pleasing,
But together-Hell!
And as the wider street leads to the narrower one,
The intensity,
The ardency,
The fervency,
Of the loathsome odors,
Might make one lose their faith in God.
But holding God's hand,
Do we sail through the unwelcoming sea,
Of smells,foul and rank,
To reach the end,where
This curse breaks,
And this damnation is no more,
And our mirth,
And our glee,
And our joy
Is out of bounds.
And absolutely surreal does it feel,
To reach the hostel,
Alive!
Or rather Undead!
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 11:29 AM UTC
“...But Turkey is part of the story of Trump’s treachery. Erdogan, like Putin, Kim, and Zelensky, has learned that in the United States-- as in other authoritarian countries-- only one man really matters.”
______________________________
I wrote this after the brutal ****** of Jamal Khashoggi. I highly suspect the timing and the players of this backroom agreement:
The timing of Khashoggi's disappearance and the release of the Evangelical pastor, Brunson are not coincidental. The players were all there and the timing in place.
Here's what I think happened:
Turkey plays middleman, gets rid of bad press and high-pressure detainee, American Pastor Brunson. Saudi Arabia gets rid of its problematic critic, the newspaperman, Jamal Khoshoggi. The United States gets Pastor Brunson back plus the huge photo-op with Trump on his knees right before the election, claiming to his evangelical base, “See what I did for you? Does that buy your votes?” Everybody gets what they want, except Jamal Khoshoggi, who is tortured, killed, and dismembered in the Saudi embassy in Turkey.
Too diabolic and smooth for Trump alone. I think Russia and high level, intelligence brokered this deal. The agreement for it came between Saudis, Trump, and Turkey's Erdogan. Russians standing just out of sight on this – waiting.
________________________
Gotta wonder what our economy is based on? More-so, the morality of our government. We should be outraged and deeply ashamed!
Feel terrible for his fiance--not knowing-- not even able to bury him.
Support the free press everywhere!
...Latest: Trump's response:
But Trump also reiterated his earlier concerns that any punishment of Saudis shouldn't impact trade with Saudi Arabia, signaling that cutting off U.S. military sales to the kingdom may not be an option.
"I don't want to hurt jobs," he said...."
Fast forward--
10-8-19:
Now we learn a little more about what Turkey wanted from the deal.
Open season on the Kurds, anyone?
Trump's letter to Erdogan all but threatening him to cooperate with cease-fire in Syria allowing Putin into the territory he wanted. Not sure who actually framed Trump's words as he is a a blabbering ******* Jared perhaps?
The letter does Not promise reward for cooperation-- but in carefully couched words-- threatens Erdogan that he could end up like Khashoggi. As Michael Cohen testified, “Trump never says anything directly. Sorta like a mafia don-- everything is in code”
Oct 24, 2019
Oct 24, 2019 at 12:11 PM UTC
*"When I lost him ",she said, "I thought I had lost everything Daniel.Because he meant the world to me" Pain pressed down on her chest as if it were an anchor rested there and she knew her illness was eating deeper .She paused listening to the melody of his soft breath and savoring his manly cincture. She needed more strength too and courage to at least praise him too because like her Grandfather once told her,Love is a two way street and to reach forever, both lovers must at some point take to the driving seat.
"But now, having found you my Angel, I realize compared to Paradise, the world means nothing. Heaven is all we need sometimes to forget the pain our world has caused us.I..."she stuttered in realization of the double truth she'd hinted on in her confession and in hesitation of the ultimate. "I love you Dan..."
"And I,you more " he replied but Marly wondered if it would stand when he finally learns of the bitter truth that robbed her of Jamal. She contemplated her plight with such sadness that a serpentine tears crawled out her eyes wetting his chest just as she was bleeding inside, metaphorically and literally*
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 2:57 AM UTC
My dear friend;
I know you didn't mean
to make me cry today,
but what you haven't experienced
is the feeling of your heart
tearing into two
because a friend has
exposed the harsh reality
you don't want to be true.
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 8:00 AM UTC
Money listens, that is why
coins have heads in profile.
<>
For Jamal Khashoggi
R.I.P. Istanbul 2nd Oct 2018.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 8:20 AM UTC
Rabab baj rahi thi kahi, jaha khuda bhi naach raha tha,
Phir na jaane kaunsi yaad-e-dard baraat leke agayi.
Naghma jo lehrake aayi, banke sur-e-shahen shah,
Wo sur jo nafs se mile, to khud dard banke beh gayi.
Aye mere jaan-o-dil, jamal-e-mah suna teri nazm-e-kamal,
Hum to ro rahe hain, jab se teri lafzon, aasu ban ke beh gayi.
Andaaz mat pucho koi, apna batane layak nahi rahi,
Khair agar puch hi liya hai, to kya batayen, koi andaz hi nahi rahi.
Bata to denge hum, par koi kyun sunega,
Khair agar sun hi liya hai, to sun ke bhi kya samjhega.
Baatein to bohot hain, gar koi sunna chahe to,Par kaun sunne ke liye baitha rahe?
Khair agar baith hi gaya ** to ek be-kafan lash ka,Nazm-e-ashk bhi sun ke jao.
Ro to nahi rahe the hum, wo kam to apna lafz kar raha tha,
Achanak wo rabab yaad agayi, jis pe khuda nach raha tha.
Hum to baithe the, ab khare ** gaye,
Na jaane apna rone ki awaaz, us mehfil ko kharab na karde.
Ab mai chal raha hoon, kahi aur jaa raha hoon,
Kidhar jaa raha hoon, utna nahi pata,
Bas rabab se dur chala jaun,
Nayi mehfil sajane, udhar firse nazm-e-ashk bhi suna na hai.
Oct 27, 2024
Oct 27, 2024 at 11:21 AM UTC
You're prettier than a tree
Nonchalant beauty alone
Up the bare hill
Reposes in the golden Beams
lightly warm and free
to placate the moody wind
in the abode of leams
far from the thirsty rill
and the doggedly crow
and all of it I can imagine to own
Far in the abandoned land
Beyond that bare hill
Where a lake mimics tranquility
A womb of life laden and still
Mirrors as your calm beauty
And all of it I can see
From my dormer window
From a portrait of me
A sketch unframed, unfinished
On an easel, fancifully colored
Waits frailly thy brush and hand
To accomplish my metamorphosis
To achieve thy miraculous guesses
Of the unity of pure whiteness
And colors of passionate kisses.
Written by
Jamal Abboud
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 10:15 AM UTC
In the dark night evil walks tonight
An evil once lurked cold and mean
Its laughter would creep
Palestinians dying rivers of blood
While soft dreams would weep
In the dark night it destroyed what was green.
Feb 9, 2025
Feb 9, 2025 at 6:34 AM UTC
He was 54 years old but that was still too young to go.
He starred as Theodore Huxtable on 'The Cosby Show'.
He was asphyxiated and he drowned.
It's sad because he's no longer around.
He was a very talented man and that's certainly true.
He starred on 'The Cosby Show' from 1984 until 1992.
Malcolm had skill and charisma and it definitely showed.
When he starred in 'Listen Up', he starred in all 22 episodes.
People are sad because he's no longer here.
Sadly, he lost his life after living for 54 years.
Jul 22, 2025
Jul 22, 2025 at 8:15 AM UTC