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CR Franklin Feb 2019
-I'm tired of being tired
- I'm tired of being on my own
- I'm tired of living with family and feeling alone
-I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself
- I'm tired of the impending doom
- I'm tired of feeling like a Dreamer in my very own home
-I'm tired of feeling inadequate
- I'm tired of explaining ****
- I'm tired of my aggressors playing my **** role
-I'm sick of feeling drained
- I'm exhausted from being ill
- But most of all, I'm just motherfu*king tired
Fml
This words are my own to
scandalize, throw it directly
in your face, scream them
encrush them and swallow
in silence as a pois a porter
at a tabooed cablooed bar
drinking bottles of brewed
cougar gulping bitter pills
small tokens of forgotten
abandoned little peoples

Taboo Words:
heartbreak, blob, writersblock
anguish, drunkdead, motherfu
LDP Mar 2018
We grew up listening to fairy tales,
Hearing how good always trampled evil and that the hero of the story never failed.
Images plastered onto our neurons of a perfected society,
Told to keep our noses down and listen intently and sit quietly.
Love the girl next door,
Pick up a handsome young man from the grocery store.
These fabrications placed in our brains to infect our twisted, contracted, erupted, colorful imaginations.
We are a new breed, a new seed,
We no longer abide by rules, we write our own laws according to our own needs.
Forced to be our own protagonist,
Writing down scriptures of memories and experiences just to disapprove the antagonist.
Waving flags was a threat to legality,
But now we rep our justice in multiple forms so that we can put an end to the brutality.
We're not reckless, we're fed up!
Riots don't start from ignorance, it starts when y'all stop giving a motherfu*!!
Telling us to look the other way,
But how can we ignore it when it's happening every single day.
So we wear bandanas and gloves with skulls on them,
Because we are at war and we are ready to die with the worse of them.
Grenades turn into balled fists being thrown in the air,
And handguns become rallies and protests to stop the racial warfare.
Opinionated and ideas well contemplated,
Executing plans and ideas from years in which they were generated.
Running from the enemies that corrupted the discriminated,
But these bottles of spray cans are the art of the the blueprints that have been explicated.
Multiple indictments cause resentment,
Social Media is the outlet my Y2Ks implement.
Newspapers don't serve its purpose,
Sometimes these actions are planned but honestly we don't take the time to rehearse it.
Babies being born into an era of turmoil,
Burning buildings, trashing neighborhoods with steel rods and iron coils.
Prison yards keep being impacted with our male species,
The government isn't about the smell of freedom,
They carry a fake stench that reeks louder than feces.
So we take photographs with fashionable causes,
Expressing our mentality not trying to suffer more losses.
Strapped with IPhones and Nikons, we're ready to document history,
Women are taking on a new hierarchy that serves as an example to young girls,
Giving them the right to be intelligent and free.
We are both human contradictions and truths walking in a fleshy form not scared of battle,
Coming up with creative compilations and innovative equations to purposely make your mind rattle.
But we have heart...
Whatever we begin, we're gonna finish it from the very first start.
Disciples of the streets, ghetto, suburbia, city, poverty, free-world and religion; we are what you call complex and you might ask why,
But united we stand...fearless full of ambition...
Welcome to Generation Y.

— The End —