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(1674.)


I have desired, and I have been desired;
  But now the days are over of desire,
  Now dust and dying embers mock my fire;
Where is the hire for which my life was hired?
  Oh vanity of vanities, desire!

Longing and love, pangs of a perished pleasure,
  Longing and love, a disenkindled fire,
  And memory a bottomless gulf of mire,
And love a fount of tears outrunning measure;
  Oh vanity of vanities, desire!

Now from my heart, love's deathbed, trickles, trickles,
  Drop by drop slowly, drop by drop of fire,
  The dross of life, of love, of spent desire;
Alas, my rose of life gone all to prickles,--
  Oh vanity of vanities, desire!

Oh vanity of vanities, desire;
  Stunting my hope which might have strained up higher,
  Turning my garden plot to barren mire;
Oh death-struck love, oh disenkindled fire,
  Oh vanity of vanities, desire!
Zowie Georgia Oct 2013
Resistance is a **** stunting the possibilities of us, our nature,
and the sun that resides in us all.
When we let go
we always move forwards.
And when we hurt we grow,
we heighten,
to a place that isn't initially seen,
as holding on doesn't want to recognise
you're no longer there.
The illusion of resistance crumbles
when we empty our hands,
when our hearts tell our minds
Just let go,
here we regain the power of trust,
of faith,
and the wild playground of our lives
prove joyful again.
To extend out with all we have
knowing this reach has reversed equally.
Dropping the weight like a stone
surrendering in the sea of life,
expanding further still as we sink,
knowing that holding on to that
which resists so much
is not ours to be held,
we are not to remain stunted
in a state of tug of war.
life around us says so,
we are to learn and beautify
as we rise,
as we fall
We mustn't resist.
And so we are,
so we shall be
free.
WickedHope Dec 2014
I'm curious...

How did my ExxP parents
Give birth to two IxxJ children?

How did my 'ideal match' parents
Get such a ****** up marriage?

How does my T father
Really feel about and think of his F son?

How much does my ISFJ brother
Hate his INFJ sister for stunting his F growth,
Because our ESTP father, my shadow type, has annihilated mine?

How am I supposed to be able to predict
My ENFP mother's flip-flopping parenting,
Even if we're both NFs?
Finally decided to sit down and type my family (, ehhhhh...).
Only one I'm not certain of is my brother.
- - -
Yup.
You'll probably ignore/not get this, unless of course you're a certain INFP who I had in mind while writing. (******* The Wing)
For 21 days I saw changes wrought
by the freedom of 22 years  
Secrets of razor wire straight and taut
Speak of those who continue to fear

I saw nature’s beauty in land and face
As black heel continues to rise
Via school, ambition they prep for the race
Even as secretly despised

What’s changed in Soweto? I did not live
But photos and newsreels survive
Pictures of shanties bulldozed to give
Whites room to extend their hives

Now malls; monuments to white retail
Built on Mandiba’s words
Polished chrome and marble hail
“Happy” workers in a black-faced world

Monuments ringed with vendors tribal
Carved goods for sale and cheap
The rands they make do not rival
What multi-nationals’ continue to reap

Happiness is shallow until sundown
When the curtain of decorum lifts
Showing reality’s new shanty-town
Where space and plumbing are gifts

I wonder if He would be okay
Seeing his people so used
As pawns for labor with little say
As black is seldom excused
  
The young know the time is now
As old hatred’s in shallow graves
To be unearthed by book and plow
Keeping dreams from stunting and fade
It may not seem as such, but I had a terrific if not educational time in South Africa. The Kruger animal photo opts, the Swaziland kindergarten where half of the five and six-year-olds are orphaned due to the aides epidemic. The glassmaking co-op where exquisite glass figurines are all hand blown from recycled glass. I witnessed the resilience of a proud people even as I was saddened at the extreme draught nature has visited upon man and beast alike.
Lynn Legend Sep 2015
Get up out that bed
Slip out that depression
Everyday you wake up is a blessing
Life ain't over

Pick your head up smile
Get it together
Sitting around miserable
Ain't gone make it no better
Tuff times don't last
they only make you better
Life ain't  over it

So he cheated on you?
Your friends turned they backs on you ?
Life ain't over

Social media got you tripping
Like you ain't worth ****
But in reality
The ones stunting
Be broke as ****
Life ain't over

The world is changing
You just now seeing the facts
Life ain't over
Ain't no app to get it back

You was put here for a reason
They only here for a season
Life ain't over

Make a deference today
Life ain't over
**** how they see it
do it your way
Life ain't over

You keep your eyes on the prize
But give God the praises
He's with you at all times
Even when life throws you mazes
Life ain't over

-Lynn Browning

Lynn Browning ©
Life ain't over!!
Tony Luxton Sep 2015
Some say you can't read someone's thoughts.
Some claim to read them like a book.
It's phantom pages may engage
but I move on from thought to thought.

Those readings choke like a bindweed cloak,
coiling, twining, transmuting brutes.
Stereotypes shape many folk,
stifling, stunting valuable fruit.
Miranda Sep 2018
I am just like you, except there is something stopping me
Racism; Stunting me from the same opportunities as any other person
Being an outcast, a black sheep in a world of white sheep
Due to the melanin in my skin, a feature everyone has that is skin deep

I come from the natural essences of meticulous hair products in my hair
Used to tame my true being because it looks "*****" when in reality my hair is but of African descent, as am I
As I walk past you, you give me nasty looks as the smell of my tamed curls wafts to your nose
I walk like you, talk with the same tongues as you, see like you do, and have a soul within the vessel of my body and hear the same way
Only the things I hear and see are not kind or compliments about things I wear or how I look

Instead, I am met with hateful eyes, pointing fingers and a raised voice
I am judged for anything I do: my native tongue, my natural curls, and the color of my skin
You look at me with belligerent eyes, your hands moving around symbolically to create a point
I am just you, just with many differences between us and a whole different world; yours without segregation

I am just like you, I can express how I feel in different ways just like you can
I can create music with my tongue and I can create a dance with the rhythm my ancestors blessed upon me
I can create a sketch or painting with my hands to express the tragedies segregation has caused
I move my feel methodically to the words of God himself, which uplift my conflicted soul in desperate need of prayer

I am just like you, except my world consists of using “colored” bathrooms and sitting in places only for “colored” people
Is the reason that I am called colored is due to the color of my skin, which is unnatural to your European eyes?
I go to church just like you and believe in the same ten commandments just as you
If there’s one thing you should know, it is that I am just like you; I am human
mbm
I'm a Kool g rockin' coogis poppin' coochies
Haters get murked like Colhese my rap lease
Debutin' numero uno the heavy weight sumo  
Born on Jupiter raised on Earth my heart's colder than Pluto
Mic judo flows stickin' of ya corticals
Check me in the articles I be the broken particle
Of the universal ya need rehearsal **** goin' commerical
I lay raps like a hearse flow for rappers funeral
I a criminal none keep gats by the abdominal rhymin' phenomenal the mighty Apollo
Blazin' my cocoa flippin' crime like Bardellino
One luv to my nino got it locked like a Vegas casino
We checkin' ya dough at the front door so stop ya show
Fronting and stunting once my nines get the hunting
Bullets spikin' like kickers punting raw taunting
Game hungriest similiar to the lochness
Mon-star far from subpar rhymes ride bizzare
A pharcyde takin' ya into a spiritual homicide converged to the angelic hide


Still a crime shame all of 'em say the same
Thing flexin' diamonds on they pinky rings yet another sad soul that sings sub siblings
To the underworld debators contract initiator so you can create a
Pace between the stage and the audience face
**** that rather keep a gat tucked in the front or the back
With wisdom to rack
Imagine that fools breakin' for stats? see where my heart at?
Diggin' reachin' into the minds of the youth with the brutal truths
Chippin' my tooth
From killin' booths once I plot ya will ya loose
bringin' the ghetto blues and cruising *****
Still a sober jealous God am I call me Jehovah
Tactics of a Cobra one strike it's over
Venomous ridiculous hataz so conspicuous
Hatin' us only to anger my artillery surplus and who bust?
More rounds than Matt Dillion coatin' ya brains
With my lyrical penicillin stealin'
Back the spotlight
Catch the bright sunshine that stares into my mind
A Pharoah prophecy laid in the back of me
Head til I touch my final resting bed I'll embed
The realist **** ya ever heard shooting a bird
To all my enemies I blast at 'em with as the bullets herd
kirklefrance Feb 2013
sitting in the background of my backyard reminiscing of my past year
thinking about **** that was said gat me like smt yeah
****** dont get down but they wanna act here
life is just a show and we gat ya tickets in the back there
main eventing on some ******* stunting on some hoes
where my **** smoke blows "hell' aint nobody knows
cutting off ya air supply you starring in my shows
the irony in life makes us all grow
where we headed from here?
not even god knows
so im packing all my clothes saying goodbye to you *******
taking extra packs of back getting faded on you snitches
and where I end up only God can tell
where ever it gone be is what it is
nothings worst than hell
this is a farewell ******* PIGS **** the haters and the hassles
searching for life at midnight on the beach smoking **** building sand castles
Kara Jean Jun 2016
From the moment I took a breathe,
I was thrown into a narrow way of life.
Unfair way of thinking.
Stunting my progression.
I had to be the perfect little Mormon girl.
"Stand up straight.
Talk like a young lady."
I couldn't express my individuallaity.
Ironically the way god made me.
The words dug in deep perpetually.
"Your eyeliner is to deep you look like a harlet.
What the hell are you wearing?"
I dressed to **** and **** meant ***.
*** made you a deformed unbloomed flower unless you were married.
I was misinformed constantly.
I didn't want to go to hell I wanted my family to support me.
I put on show for far to long trying to please everybody.
I couldn't understand why something so true and great could bring nothing but shame and misery.
I gave my everything and it was killing me.
I was drove to the fine line of insanity.
Free falling down so beautifully.
Finding myself in an erratic deranged way.
No longer following any man into the ground.
Keeping the firm heart within me.
Jeremy Lately May 2015
He was a good runner;
And one hell of a stunner;
Your stop-glass picture for a lightning vision;
And a start-pass winner, a stunting gold finisher;
A heart cold hunter, he was my knock-out hitter;
He was a K.O. Rider--
He was a collider: on one collect collision course;
Of course, the beginning was when it began:
Between the specific sheet of force
With a good measure...
Had me landing on all fours,
Reveling in it again;
To rev up was the plan.
I want to experience kabe don one day!
KHY Feb 2021
the waterfall pours from my eyes
pedals fall underneath the guise
stunting growth, lethargic dope
cogs and knots, perched atop  
Frozen locks, offset and lost
denial of fact, unravelling fiction
dine in solitude, reset and listen
Classy J Oct 2016
Killer boy, crawling through life like a caterpillar, yeah I work hard but get under appreciated like a water boy. Cute & Dangerous like a panda, waving my native pride like it was a banner. I'm not interested in slutty broads; yeah I don't waste my time on those frauds. Never been to London, but I am stunting, roasting haters in my oven. Girls be looking at me with panda eyes, but I am wise for not replying, because all though good in the moment, I know it will lead to my demise. Just let me versify and revamp the bounds of rap, yeah I'm about to cross the transversal line. I sometimes internalize my hate and fear, while critics are quick to crucify, it's fine because society has begun to blur. Let's prioritize our animal instincts, get what we want in an instance, who needs to care about logistics.

Hunter like tactics; we are so polarizing; praising meaningless merchandise; even if it's gimmicky and unappetizing. Just keep on pandering to propaganda, keep on working to help the great scandalized top banana.  Everything looking black and white, can we bounce back, and once again thrive in the sunlight? The inner blackness is ready to come out, the sinner that creeps in my dreams like Freddy, is there a way for me to get out? The white light of hope tries to stay strong, but how do I do that when it feels like I'm an anomaly that doesn't belong? Inner clash, inner turmoil, feels like I'm going to crash, is there time for us to unwind this coil? Deception is this addiction, struggling with affliction that sparks some friction. Sitting on the floor with a bottle of Gibson, only one more stop till I reach destruction. Sip after sip, as I start to drift, wondering if I am just a small blip, starting to question if life really is a gift.

Blackness keep on bearing down, just a canvas of blankness trying so hard not to breakdown. Searching for light to give me might, to give me motivation to continue on to fight. Just a panda; vicious but vulnerable; precious but endangered; wondering if my soul can be recoverable. How do I transition, how do I change my position, how can my intuition help me avoid this oppositional demolition? How do I carefully plan my mission, how do I clear my vision, how do I deal with this condition? Do I go to a hospital, do I dig deeper psychologically, do I become an apostle? Do I go to an intervention; do I take pills for suicidal prevention? Black & white, despite these attacks, I will bridge the gaps, and destroy the traps. Good meets bad, bad meets evil, forget the prequel; time to move on to your sequel.
Amanda Apr 2013
I am in need of my own world,
One where I can be set free,
Please somebody make this true,
A world where it's just you and me.

Snitches and unfairness,
Begin to surround us both,
Exaggerating the truth,
And stunting our love's growth.

People these days just **** me off,
They need to get their own **** love,
They need to leave our life alone,
And let ours soar just like a dove.

After blowing off some anger,
And letting myself dream,
You are everything I want,
No matter how crazy it may seem.

I could spend forever in your arms,
And constantly long for your kiss,
I love everything you are,
Which makes you very easy to miss.

No one knows how you make me feel,
Even my own brain does not know,
Only my own heart can tell,
How you make it beat and grow.

Whenever I am with you,
All my strength has to hold me back,
From never letting you go,
And losing the thing I lack.

I wish this nightmare would end,
And I could be reliving my dream,
Of that one wonderful time with you,
Of just us underneath the moon beam.

I miss you so much now,
Even though I see you everyday,
I just want a moment alone,
With just actions and no words to say.

Every kiss that we share,
Sends a shiver down my spine,
I yearn for your touch all the day,
And another time to call you mine.

Every moment just-in your presence,
Makes me want to smile real large,
I try to hide my great big grin,
But it is no use when your in charge.

I know your always there for me,
Even when we can't be near,
The small and important words you say,
Can keep me going and lose all fear.

Your hugs make me melt in your arms,
I long for that constant feeling,
Your warmth and your embrace,
Help me speed all this healing.

It's taken me weeks to write this thing,
Cause I just have so much to say,
I just love you no matter what,
More and more each and every day.

I miss you all and every time,
Even though I see you here now,
I just wanna be with you a lot,
I just do not know how.

I love you so very much,
I continue to watch this feeling grow,
We know what we both think,
And the others... Well they don't know.
wrote this over a long time... multiple moods in it... finally... finished... i guess. BAHAHA!
Lamb Feb 2015
Cure me
Of this plague
That’s snaking around my throat

Allow me to tiptoe
To avoid confrontation
Social humiliation

I would speak if I could only say the words
Cure me
Of the echoing dull in my heart
A dying buzz

A cycle of depression
Undecipherable ****** expressions
Stunting my progression

I would sing if I didn’t care who heard
The vines circling my feet
Threatening to tighten
Forever clutching
Me in its embrace

I need you
You say you know me
Maybe I don’t want you to
The biggest lie, can’t you see?
Because I don’t even understand me
I hide behind poetry

I would pray to a God, if I were sure
Sure that this world kept its promises
Every inhale a burning desire
Reverberating thoughts clouding
Polluting my mind
Exhale

This isn’t a plea
But I am trying to oversee
But this love I feel for you
Isn’t meant for just one,
It needs two

This legacy of pain
Scorching my veins
Spreading the plague
A world filled of vague

Cure me
Before it spreads
**To you
donovan ellis Feb 2013
I grew up in the hood, in had to except that i was nothing, but now im chasing money and getting polo's i had it coming..i seen a lot of things in 18 years u cant tell me nothing..my momma dated a crack fen and got beat yeah she didn't see it coming, i cried myself to sleep but stayed strong in keep stunting, i do it all for u momma in im proud to say i love ya, you stayed strong during the hard times,nothing came above you, i pray before i lay my head that a real ***** would show u something, treat u like a queen and put u first and tell u that he love ya, but for now mama im yo king in ima show u that i love ya...Big sis sham you was like my best friend yeah we fell off but i wish we can start again, you was the only one that really understood me..we lend on each other shoulders when we both felt down.. and i wont to say sorry for you being mistreated but always kept a smile... in my lil princess let her know that ima always hold her down...haven't seen yall in a long time i feel bad that i didn't stick around... Thoughts run thru my head like look what you came out to be now, from all the struggles that we been thru the helpless nights where we didn't have a dad to tend too.. Moms stayed strong and she was always reliable to fall thru.. But you know that's my pops and im going to always love him two cause he took me out the hood and gave me a life i could look up too.. But for you ur still struggling trying to make a dime into a 100 now that's a tru hustle.. And mom taught me best that "If you want it you gotta get never stop tell you finish" soo i was raised a go getta my moms ain't never been a women to be bitter... Always stood high even tho everything was really low she always said "Don't let money **** yo pride just leave it up too god" but when money was alive my moms tend to cry not knowing where it came from she said it was a blessing from god.. So momma ima keep working and make sure you don't have to cry again it kills me to see a tear fall when the money isn't rolling in... Stay strong and hold on cause my time is coming for me to shine again... Much love Cindy D Ellis <3
Butch Decatoria Apr 2017
I've given in
Giving you this in

Black and white

Kinda floundering
Finding
Not a rainbow
Near me
The magic is lost
Fearingly

Like ghosts
These illustrations
Of the heart

The gifts missed
From distances
In **** tube dreams
Boxed in
When we give a ****
Only now in this century
Twenty first class
Calamities

Our oceans dying
Malformed embryonic cells
Of sea shells
She sells to the sea shores
Supply and demanding
Foodies going for sushi
Tuna rolls not in season's
Greatest catch
Babies of King *****
Vegas Buffets
(Hashtags hazmat)

Overpopulation
Cities bowdlerizing nature
Iron teeth
Skyscrapers
and weeee!
All Are wanting,

Hunting, stunting, grunting
Undaunted
We sport full
Stadiums like
flagella

Single cell organisms
Goliath

mammoths now we mount,
Life best preserved in ice
Gene spliced
Playing dice
A stadium obese
With single minded
Bacterium

Gone viral

Vanities and victory
Of youth wasting time
Herding sheep
Mastering a perfect sling / swing
Knowing where to aim

Without fame
Without fail
Twix the eyes
The larger will fall

When it begins to hail
Gray
desert granite
Rocks
Throwing, rolling
Stones
on high
Or from below
Mantle, plates
Tectonics
Floods
Don't wait for names
The Hurricanes
Categorically mad
A High five

Climate changes cataclysms
Undoubtedly
No need
For
Catholicism catacisms
Or celebrations for
Dunking drowning
Under Christian steeples
Luke warms
Water

Ceremonious
Ways to cleanse

Drink and capitalize,
Divide their minds
As conquered

The fountains
We deny our youths
By learning only
Monkey see monkey doo
Masses
Congregation
A peaceful gathering

Recitations
Incited legions
Again again
religions own
What we believe

Schooled by whom no one knows
The vicarious
Malleable history

proof defining

The shapable feast of mean
and meaning...

Since it has been
All about
**** / Black or white
Just a reminder
Reminiscing
from a loss
Rather than reason
as one family,
Much more loss will
Fill your glass
But let me remind you
That thirst cannot be quenched
With empty

Actions speak
peacefully louder
When words
lift
Up like into laughter
No news of war to speak of pastor

When a summer day
In black AND white
Is still beautiful
In the shades and rays
Of a Polaroid
Picture of the day
Star : Sun,
In black and white
Still
Is bright

When the sky looks
Drab in
Gray...

The cage bird sings
The rainbows
Bright
Soul that flows a river

The living day
                   song of words

Utmost
Hearts
The Beloved

poetry
Of
The truth
When we chose

To give love
The life

Our world
Balances...

Even in black & white, I see  
The rainbow wave

               In the sky dances.









**(Continue into poetry about that universal
Ideal or melancholy, represented by the color
Gray feelings or the visits into gloamings and
Mists of dreamy worlds that host the ghosts of
Our downward spirals and dismay... The I between
Stranger things and sorrows heavy feeling, familiar
Or alien, gray as multiplcitous a color, it's shades
Of Heaven or bones, paint by writing
your feelings down, show me all or none,
Your neglected shades... The darkest to light.
Tell me how your gray turned white)
To be Cont...
So much beef
And we haven't even reached the middle of the ocean with it's reefs
The world already is engulfed into too much grief
Let's be Chiefs and stop our tribing wars
You're just causing more sores
Just disorder galore
What are we stunting for?
We're the same, **** it
It's like we take one simple comment and Instagram it
It's coined savagery for a very valid reason
There's so much disdain among other poets on other websites. It just needs to stop. This is one of my funnier poems imo, and it's 69 words along with it lol.
Andrew Rueter May 2020
The Christian imagination is captured
by the idea of the rapture
where Jesus comes to save us
like he shouldn’t just shame us
because no one is blameless
for this great mess.

It’s a dangerous mentality
to say our vitality
is based on morality
the rapture is that emphatically
where Jesus is battling
the forces of the ****** darkness
who are those I deem heartless.

The rapture can be Christian revenge ****
or their way of explaining this death storm
either way it prevents our best form
which is what Jesus was sent for
but now the student is the mentor
twisting words that meant more.

War is pushed to the side
it’s viewed as a sign
we’re living in the end times
like we’re in a hopeless ******
and tentacles just went by.

Nuclear proliferation
and global warming
bring them elation
for the rapture’s forming
so if the wars get gory
and match their prophetic story
they’ll practice diminished mourning.

God loves everyone individually
so it seems silly to me
what billions before us have seen
isn’t the same fate we’re deemed
why would we be
treated differently?

We must all walk through death’s door alone
I wish I could take everyone in my home
but that mentality is ******-suicide prone
yet when the comfort of company
becomes too much for me
I say quite lovingly
the rapture is coming
to drown out war drums drumming
I say the rapture is coming
to drown out more guns gunning
I say the rapture is coming
humanity’s mental growth is stunting
I say the rapture is coming.
Jenn Gardner Jul 2011
I am drowning beneath an infinite ocean,
entrapped within a world of chrome and plastic.

plastic lacks understanding of the way
that the wind has been blowing for the past

hundred thousand years.

the breeze has allowed souls to set sail
carried consciousness amidst colossal waves

towards crimson creeks of hate.

chrome and plastic knows not of the black or the white,
for reality is composed of repetitive sounds and vibrations.

perhaps it is pondering the peculiarity
of the projectiles stunting the growth of gardenias.

or perhaps it is simply appalled that
when we tilt our heads backwards
and open our eyes...

we are no longer mesmerized.
Pearson Bolt Mar 2016
lines of malice are penned
within ancient tomes
black and blue ink bruising
the human psyche beyond recognition

stunting our collective imagination
with fantasies of castles
among the clouds and intergalactic
beings who sculpted us from dust

intermittent smears
of crimson declarations
lingering in blood-soaked texts
painting portraits of putrid prejudice

the image of an illusory deity
devised to explain a cosmos
that defies codification and categorization
we mythologized and told tall tales like Arachne

spinning webs of misinformed misfortune
we're severing the strings of our imaginary enemies  
silencing lives with rusty shears
utterly convinced by the edicts of idiots

how might we disentangle ourselves from mental
cobwebs and embrace reality's promising veracity
each of us an accidental miracle
captains of our own fortune's vessels

so weigh anchor and set course for distant shores
unfurl the sails of reason and hold fast
after weathering millennia of insipid beliefs
we'll sojourn ever onward with omnipotent minds

raze these sycophantic fantasies  
and raise hell so high it becomes heaven
we will build a new city in the shell of this cold
dead society predicated on misanthropic religion
Happy Easter!
Sarah richardson Feb 2012
My ceiling is suffocating me. 
This past year was rough. 
We had beautiful, lovely times. 
Always followed by ugly, hurtful words. 

I've been shut down and shut up 
With every stab, my ceiling lowered
Millimeters at a time at first
And now it feels like it's moving by feet

People weren't created to have ceilings
So why is mine stunting my growth?
I want to stand tall, feel strong
The cement is cracking and soon will fall. 

Well crash to the ground-me and my ceiling. 
But the difference between me and my wall-
Cement will lay there, unmoving it will stay. 
Me, I won't-I'll pray for strength to crawl. 

Slowly moving through the debris, gasping for air. 
For so long I've been unable to breathe
I'll stand, my wobbly knees won't give out as I 
Carefully I take my first steps. 

Looking back, but only once
What I see steals my breath. 
Once so scary and strong
My ceiling- lonely, broken, still on the ground. 

I see it was me letting it control me all along. 

I look up to the sky
For the first time in years
And the rain washes the cement away
I'm free to grow tall as the trees. 
I begin to dance my way through life. 
Smiling.
You wrote your name on my
white sand beach,
my ****** page -
eight by eleven
stranger to the (press) -
in a white wax crayon.

There are times when I forget you're there
(in white on my white page)
and the pads of my fingertips
flit across its surface
until they
skid, stunting, across your signature.

(But it gets worse)
because I'm surrounded by brilliant colors -
blue violets, crimson fields
but when I dip my (proverbial) brush
and attempt to stain my
****** white page -
the color seeps around your seal,
but never over (it's never over).

They highlight your stifling presence
on my page
with how inherently not you they are.
And I wish I could scratch you out
(without) ripping my white, now crimson,
page.

Everyone else is the water color to your crayola.
a stupid analogy, but somehow the most fitting.
Emily Jones Jan 2014
Where do I go from here
Here being the limbos of choice
The frontal antagonism of option
Where each road looks similar spelling out the death of my heart
Stunting my passions and printing a mundane existence
Where I am burdened by a debt of responsibility
Bare scrapping change up off the pavement

Not filling willing minds with enlightenment joy and inner peace as I wish to be
My dreams as grand as the shining gold pillars of some ancient city
And wit as sharp as the Chinese whom discovered atomic theory much earlier than western thought had hoped

Where do I go from here
Do I take up refuge in some major that over times takes my mind into the spinning spiral of numbers
Crunching them down to bite sized bits so I don't choke on their rational?
How do i know  what is right
When I've found it and it has been deemed unworthy

How do I deny the self?
Ryan V Oct 2015
Just another hiccup I can’t make this **** up trying to put into word what is lost and not heard but should I express or just strive to impress all of the rest add more ******* to feed to the herd? Open your eyes and sit up don’t roll over to a dream instead make it reality, but how can we? Not through repetition of normalcy this illusion of humanity cast in confusion always using the people you and me. What’s the use in caring or giving when you get told you’ll be forgiven though they won’t, they want justice but refuse to even fully trust us. How can I keep fuel in my tank while the promiseland is just another paper pass it back and forth overhand until you finally land back in another box day by day wondering what will be on your dinner plate. Constantly voluntarily refusing to be fully using your energy. And yet you get tossed another fish after bending over doing flips at someone else’s pleasure just to add another penny to his treasure. Just reading sign after sign pointing away from the curtain towards the wizard another fire **** ****** blizzard. The backwards prince of thieves, robbing hood, is celebrating this, the very day in which, he saw the death of his father King Liberty, now he’s ruling so why should we even bother to keep running his maze when we know it’s a circular ****** consumer treadmill looks still can will do **** the esteem of darling little Josephine. **** and *** craps fast cash the American dream tall coffee milk or cream? On to the next one the next day the next month just repeating and constantly overeating not exercising my body or freedom. Should I keep going even knowing their stunting my growing always under weight of image seriously what the **** is this? Anorexic or overweight? If you’re right I’m wrong? You win I lose? Why don’t we just choose what we want instead of being shoved from behind and pushed into the spotlight of somebody else’s show? that’s not right? At the end of the day we miss the bus home to have time to think about calling that shrink then your eyes catch a rack for hire and you buy her she’s back…darling little Josephine. Dark room silenced tears under covers thrashing, mind on nothing else but lasting one more ****** before she walks away with my wallet and wife house and kids next stop liquor store popping lids feeling numb just waiting wishing sleep could come. Spin cycle keeps on churning. Loudly and quietly yearning for that promise from so long ago did they always know it’d come to this? Washers done almost out of change and time to rearrange the furniture in the living room that I really don’t even use. Shuffle to the kitchen to open the empty fridge then sit there and stare at it. 12 o clock on a Tuesday time for the doctor’s order another pill to pop you really can’t afford. Clothes out the dryer wrinkled like my skin and faded like the man within. And now for the part I can never write because I just can’t end it right because its all gone wrong.
Danielle Rose Feb 2014
I have tried to give birth to a new and improved version of my vision
Exulting blips of exactitude and ambition
Flashes of pretension on a screen of pending dreams
Lacking mobility and projection
Inertia writhes

I'm mainly advertising trying to sell and intrigue
To those who have enough eloquence to persuade my predilection and schemes
Endorsing me providing lifelines and pure consciousness
Lacking the force of extorted themes and exulting worthiness
Cleansing my mind of the mocking bird's trash heap
Help me dissemble the falsified declarations and professions of fiends

I want to be pristine
I beg thee to teach and galvanize me
Endowing me with inexorable sight
Keeping me keen and full of bold might
I am willing to fight

Bring me to the surface of these turbulent seas
No need to mention my frailties and anxieties
All I ask is a breath from the surface of true realities

The urgency constrains my needs for rejuvenation and appreciations
For all those little beautiful things that once meant the world to me
Like pink carnations

Sleeplessness morphs into spells of insomnious hauntings
Stunting my contractions
It's completely and utterly exhausting
A labor deprived of true initiative and wanting
It may sound silly but everything is contradictory

It is these pains that leave me incomplete, ineffectual, and in paralyzing omission
Excluded and feeling great depths of oppression
Despairing and kept in solitary confinement
  
Suffering more than I'd like to profess
Distressing the matters that cave into my chest
An infiltration of insurmountable anguish
Abolished
Untouched by a shoulder or hand of accommodation
Is it selfish to push for this magnitude of isolation?

I crave cultivation
I want to grow into the Giant Sequoia
But the fires of self doubt leave my branches in ruins
Smoke signals sending sirens
A constant affliction
It's all my own doing

Contingency pleading for nourishment
Somehow knowing thee and ye could constitute for something of legends
Tell that to our reflections
Or maybe it's the fear of fire that terminates our pregnancy
Causing us to introvert instead of projecting
Withholding both you and I from mastery
We humans are erasing existence of humans ..
The killing of animals have shadows of humans..
We are erasing Silk, Cotton, khadi ...
Kids now don't like the taste of natural honey..
Eating of fruits they know not, drinking fruits is what they like.. Home cooked hot food is becoming rare now..
Bringing parcel of food is becoming common now..
TV, Mobile, Computer, FM, takes 16 hours a day now,
Kids getting a digital notebook is becoming common now..
Humans now don't have time to ponder,
Humans are becoming slave of man made things...


To plant trees in empty land is no one's pass time
To visit a zoo or feed an animal does not fit in the 16 hours slavery,
To invite relatives is yearly event..
To have meeting with friends is limited on FB WhatsApp or Instagram..
To walk, to hear birds chirping is just like a dream,
But humans are busier than they were before..

Kids are growing indoors.. And not outdoors..
There hieght is also changing from length to breadth..
0-10 yrs kids have thr brains growing,
What ever they easy, what ever they do they remember for rest of thr lives..
Walking, laughing, thinking, playing, eating, they learn in this age,
Irony is Mother's career and Father s promotion is also at peak in this age of theirs.
Knowingly unknowningly we are stunting the growth of young minds,
In the hands of video games was are cremating future of tomorrow..

We humans are erasing existence of humans..
We humans are erasing existence humans!!!

Sparkle in Wisdom
*(Khadi - a type of fabric wooved in India, made famous by Gandhiji)

Original had fb and email, changed email to WhatsApp and Instagram... Though I think at least email was better.. :)

I wrote this one in 2010.....
But it still holds true even now... I guess more now than before.

*This one is English translated from my original Hindi one.
gmb Jun 2018
I.
i stopped eating again; ridiculous, i know. i can see myself telling you this, i can see your reaction clear as day. i can

see your chest rise, see your eyes fall, i

remember the way your body moves after all this time. i know the curve of your lips. i know the dimples on your back. i

know what you’d say if you knew everything ive done since you left me. id swallow your silence with toast to keep my tummy from aching; id wrap myself up in your pity like gauze and reflect on my faults while you stare at me through the hair in your eyes that’s growing oh-so-fast because

i did exactly what you told me not to do the last time we talked. im comfortable with the fact that ill never be able to tell you ‘cause

i know you know, id recognize the feeling of your eyes on me anywhere. i think of you when it hits the back of my throat and i laugh when i gag ‘cause i know you would too.

II.
i check the clock and it’s 3:45; five minutes pass and it’s 6 in the morning. time isn’t concrete like a lot of things aren’t and now i snort when i laugh ‘cause i got used to the feeling, sharp inhale, drag forward slow, if you saw me like this you’d just laugh in my face and

i take a drag at 5:34. 40 minutes pass and it’s 5:46. time isn’t concrete like a lot of things aren’t and i wonder if you’ll remember my birthday this year ‘cause im turning 16, ill never catch up to your 17 years. if you saw me like this you’d remind me im stunting my growth .
Julian Aug 2020
Articulate Throwback (Amazing Rap that Doesn't Get Enough Respect)
Fielding an eclipsed Jack the Ripper Sun
Yielding dismissal garish, begotten The Matrix smokin’ gun
Wielding a firebrand skittish
Skills levied an intolerable tax by quisling quoted British
Stunting on heyday levity marksman of primes
Flogged for flagrant dragons sinking nickels and dimes aimed beatific sublime
Flowing like centripetal orbit  galvanized by riddled spirits dashed in secondary impetus of reason over rhyme
Littoral swank partial to Taylor Series of dedications Speak Now peaks livid with fumiducts of crippled sheep blandished for reach
Apologies invited always welcome for a kitsch debased by universal theaters yet united for Payable on Death singing the deceit of receipts impeached
Islanders flooding suicides punning that a sunken treasure is barbs smuggling
Otiose on ribald corsairs blinkered by the rhombos of speculation thunder itself about lightning starts wondering
Where a City by the Bay shining on a Hill of travesties of decay tanks for domesticated Negros that flashbangs got to slay
To the wistful shaken house music garnishing the prey of prayer on heavy pulls of quotable 415 hay-day
The wrinkled stray dog never  far from *****
Slapsticks against the tribunes awaiting for meteoric functions of a recessive allele of a dominant comet
Ludacris flickers dancing in dormant revelry because On Top, Just Let Go..I am honest and On It
To the milk of harvested stars glaring at tankers and garish broken FaceMash scars teetotalers scatter with Thursday crashing into glass shards
Black fame is a white epiphany of infamy designated by name
Of the craven coltish spinsters who market the crackling whiplash of sanity apportioned to the regaled insufflation of blame
Streaky on a jejune Diggity hapless hop of Kumbayas etched by Trailer Park’s scalding flop
Glorifying a Gangester heir to titanic humbled beginnings chockablock divested to Kennedy’s dead Candy Shop
Impressive rags of riches of counterfeit tags blundering with lazy LASER Tag of sharks too bellicose to earn a pitfall pittance of swag
Trippin’ by tripwires too flippant to be flippin’ on known graves sidesplitters of treecheese yaggots grimaced on madcaps of bottlecaps swimming in ether of money too happy for House of Pain rags of gag orders intrepid because some blood is Bad
****** drapes of tapestries too woven on Ducking Badger duck tape
Pretending not even a slightest twinge of celebrity faked is a tantamount affliction to Kobe’s escape
Time to rig the 7/11 notoriety of a caper drawl in Cape Town Blue Sky Action can barely offer scrape
Let them eat cake and heads roll like Nicholas Cage clairvoyant in mystique quaking like a Quaker parody rank-and-file rancid graveyard creep
Cuz the best in the Business evokes singes of Dre grazed persistence a Space Rover rather than a broken-down drive-by Vegas Cheap Holyfield Jeep
Forgeries in trigonometric time gone haywire because ******* of fools is delicious neutered ballistic wrong with elemental statistic
Armed to the Teeth because twinges of righteousness is strongly established because it elevates truces well-predicted
Reckon the self-aware hive jetsetting with Jive warbles of departure yet to arrive
“Talk” of those fewer in knowledge yet living an invented diatribe
Lil Dicky mumbling his churlish codling vendetta
Too petty on the game like a turgid Mariah Carey Christmas Sweater evaporating on benzo bleats because exaggeration is a measuring stick more prone to delusion than the vapid version of Eddie  Vedder
Ripping through seamstresses of time a delope from impoverished cesspool grime
Certainly not swinging with sockdolagers like Musk as UPS owns insider angles about BitCoin riches scoffing at #11 Sublime
I owe respect to an upstart prescience scowling hatched never against fragile egg-shell minds
He’s the predecessor to the Walter White of cesspool inveterate rivets in hulking pretense of a measured stick lying like Tony  Hawk on the grind drawling on videogame addicts lost to numbers like Wall Street bet on fractions divisible like Scarface on cardinal crime
Blip on the WHIP cackles of clever pasquinade owned by sizzurp of Red Wings demolished like Draper balking at the West Coast ****** of East Coast royalty etiolating on Life After Death because of a teased script of March 26th shining bright like nine-inch nails longer than an exaggerated Dicky loving pollution more than Sina Loa loves bricks
Mad respect to juggernaut Michigan flow, but when you henpeck a rooster fewer regaled Ravens start to sing like Tomorrow’s sung by Sheryl Crow
So attack the kenspeckel hiding like sobriety itching to revel
Even the greats are grating despite prestige owned like Steppenwolf inventing Heavy Metal
Yet the raspy dengonin certainly a curtain call for the moribund smooth competition genius but not square to my elevated level
Time to brush aside, politics is a Velvet Morning rather than an Everest scaffold of glaciers divide
Flourishing Eden of a Seattle worthy of treason on rollercoasters yet to ride
The contumely of charlatans berating brassage is a Lie Boring in Federal Way united against prejudices scowling because Qwersy Mencia is too fraught to enjoy the jeers of a tattered Pride
Past-Tense Quinn in his Chauvin Blue Suit is Queer on The Bends
For a better radio the shatter of the quaff is Damon on the mendlatch for the rights of heroism among men
Applesauce is scary when the cooks are too chary for emoluments of cherry-picked vanity inoculated because hackneyed hacksaws aren’t that scary
To a Rush Hour acclaim that owes a Martian a fair-share of the inviolable degrees above freezing that guarantees the Hang Seng
The cretaceous dinosaur livid in the Fields of Dreams lives to the honor of the author rather a subsidiary prosperity rooting for the same exact team
Credit belongs not to slot-machine jibes of Navy throngs because the sealed pedigree of a Potemkin stonewall ravaged an Atlanta March that Richard Sherman found himself wrong
Ripostes of wavered glory serenade Field’s Medal accolades jaunty with brimstone repartee for persecution of Sing-Sang jailed avuncular Dana Carvey
Crumpled in missives etched decisively by Popcorn paparazzi Lee Harvey Oswald Part Three dinging Reagan’s Drugs because belittled Batman and Robin Harvey Dent is on a defalcation spree
Limited by the gambit of orbit I flex space measured only by perception hourglasses mistake for Dewey Decimal ministry
Because mountebanks of the tramontane canard unscrewed by Donkey’s without the triumph of vindicated colts spew the unwarranted without the warrant of upright parlance
Deflecting the useless caricature of Jezebels they barely even know dancing with fisticuffs choleric with jaundiced illuminati chants of an age bracing for the venom of viper’s of gratuitous pretense in violence because the whittled conscience scourges footloose profligacy in dementia that owns probability rather than certainty but doesn’t stand a chance
A billowing toxic fume of a Trojan Horse of galloped complicity of headless horsemen too scared to even pinprick the average Brett Hume huffs like mad wolverines dancing with Buccaneers for the fidelity of bridled brides with a tailored or sloppy groom
Cowering behind plashy starlets dashed for authenticity too soon
The Red Robin Hood ****** of silhouettes of Caste system indecency is reduced to reductivism in peddled paranoia of Randall Graves confronting his deepest specious tomb
To rogue slipshod miracles of denuded ice for Christopher Reeves Wally World White in Simple Jack owleries of confiscated light they caper encaged Caspergers ergotamine flavored favor uptight
Glaring prince dashing Rusty with ***** for Hummers glazed with donut torus hummus swift with reverend repartee
Sunken sleepless abyss ghosts haunt for quaffs evanescent in backbone bliss incurring parted sight for nebbich sprees
Calculated by persnickety prattle brazen with bravado promontory sparked on the flames of an overhyped hysteria ablaze
Raisins aren’t the determinant of a blinkered starstruck page gilded to amaze
Formidable reform conserved against blasphemies of ****
Withstands the immutable geotaxis of inevitable backfires in limited scourges of scorn
Time to sacrifice the badge earn the primacy of trimleggers making a dash rushing for hourglass sand prominent in fiat flash
In a second a trampoline against a specious marvel is a sour remorse of a crusade turning into protection not found in autumn ash
With autarky righteous rain boogies against bogeys of golfers livid with sensational inane
Lunacy predicated on sensational maudlin labors of Genesis 3:16 birth pain
Incurred upon the toil of the lugubrious heights of teachers that defy tribes and stripes
Soldiering for God without even the slightest nefarious mercenary spite
Because Ledgers cannot be mistaken for legends because petty battles Abandoned Pools named were avoided for Nobel Prizes of moonshot fame never King Kong because 24k magic called the Hang Seng  game enter stage right
The thematic liberation of the freewheeler isn’t a combustion of truckers Ruckers allergic to chattered shame
But the time honored Sevendust defies blisters because a brave heroism leaps into legacy vaunted by cheery repute in winning hegemony against rigged fraud in frigid feral tames
I march to an inaugural chance without a chance of quick inauguration because Junetao is a duck-duck-go childish flicker against Amsterdam Vallon besides the church with a touching spectacle of solidarity beyond temporal Anacondas of deserved blame
An ally to the kitsch the prosperity of Nas is afforded to optimism never so fulgurant because of a bewitched Tik Tok twitch
As the true flock regards the true shepherd the guardian of wonder and the captain avoiding Yellow Submarines because Stayin’ Alive is a prophecy not a febrile contagion of germs pitching tents for flukes insistent on incident rather than honorable to Canada Dry on Strike for better than a bubble gum mumble rap of Lil Pump’s pruned humps for a ******* ghost rider rather than a profaned itch
But the camel survives because the needle doesn’t thrive in a world where God is always Stayin’ Alive to strike a pose for the voguest Jive
“The Seduction” lives and the corruption limps with glib bribery fibs because 2 Timothy 1:7 in autarky is a generous rhyme that  gives and gives
In endless crusade to beat like David the ***** of a poker miracle that stars in a showcase of a life of splendor eternal rather than a cursory kamikaze reckless fib
Its time for  abundance of life to be lived fully to truly find riches in the best possible life winsome in discretion to quake and yet remain immune to a Walgreens of Stonewall myth
Cast not the first stone against the immaculate Giant because everybody is shaking to Bond and Saint Joseph’s guarded wordsmith
Teresa Grace Sep 2012
Once the damage has been done
Only takes one to run
**** that gun son you musta been
Getting high cause it's begun

Irony is where I learned to see
Only one stunting my growth was me
Quit lingering on what could be
Get out of the third degree
Stock up on knowledge it's free
Until then I'm spending my time by the sea..
Godfrey Ndlovu Jun 2020
Son,
Dark looks black
But black ain't dark

Dark is violent,
To mindless hate firmly strewn.
Fizzing wildly
Steering a mind sinister
To skim off the dews of love
From the lush hoards of your saintly spirit

But Son,

Black mirrors me
A generation soulful and strong

Black mirrors your mama,
A Calla lily blooming beneath the stunting shadows

& Son,
Black shall mirror you
A future so near
A people forever free.
I wrote this poem having been deeply stirred by the unfolding of an inclusive BLM worldwide.
The promise shall one day come true.
Love and the will to live conquers all.
Mike Hauser Dec 2018
Conditions were fought
As we planted our hearts
In righteousness
Then prayed for rain

But the desires of this world
Sowed weeds in our souls
Then took its toll
When the locust came

...and the locust came
with a hunger unguarded
the goodness we sought
to swallow it whole

...and the locust came
in record numbers
rolling like thunder
stunting our growth

Daily we're met
By the plans of man
We readily accept
But don't dare take the blame

Then wonder at
The troubles we have
Till there's nothing left
When the locust came

...and the locust came
in turmoil and emotion
first went the mind
the heart soon followed

...and the locust came
slipping and sliding
while we weren't watching
through the backdoor
Classy J Jun 2019
He got the sauce, he got the sauce driving around in a purple Lamborghini like Ric Ross.
Ya I got the sauce, he got the sauce.
Verse 1
Driving around fronting like a boss.
Feel the connection, better come correct kid.
For in the hood one is always in need of some protection.
And if ya don’t ya best watch your neck kid.
It’s all about respect kid.
So better watch your mouth kid.
Because yawl be dead if ya ever start snitching.
For If you wanna survive you just gotta be packing.
And If you wanna a meal on your plate than ya better start stealing.
Just be careful because the pigs always creeping.
Watching our houses, tapping our phones,  
Every day and every weekend.
For there is no freedom in the project zone.
It’s like gulag out here man, with gangs all trying to sit on the iron porcelain throne.
But it doesn’t mean ****, for the government will still be the true al capoene.
Testing out their drugs on us like we lab rats.
Using racism and propaganda to keep us on our backs.
Which makes makes me wonder why the rest of our society don’t just neuter these ***** cats?
****! But as long as...
He got the sauce, he got the sauce driving around in a purple Lamborghini like Ric Ross.
Ya I got the sauce, he got the sauce.
Verse 2
Stunting with my money like a true mob boss!
You want power?
You want respect?
You want to fly around in a purple jet?
Than ya better come correct.
I feel ya J, we gotta makes them waves.
Like a big kahuna, drinking some corona.
Coming in like a super hero to save the day.
We will be the rulers, taking out the opposition like a true mobster.
And ya might think us monsters, but we just doing what we can with this natural disaster.
That you created, ya I ain’t faded.
Opportunity for all, in this world so devastated.
From Atlanta to the bronks.
Only got one rule, which is don’t be a foolish punk.
You gotta think smart and not just rely on luck.
For every dog has its day, so be careful where you run a muck.
Just as long as you never forget...
He got the sauce, he got the sauce driving around in a purple Lamborghini like Ric Ross.
Ya I got the sauce, he got the sauce.
Got that money, power, and fame like Kriss kross.
Do you got that sauce?
Does he have that sauce?
Because if you don’t, than that’s a loss.
So remember to never lose that sauce.
Joanna Oz Jun 2015
haggard hare hopping haphazardly through the haze high off hypocrisy and hilarity - hunched hyena cackling to hit the heights of his hands
miss mary mac mac mac, all dressed in black liquid lining the white of glistening eyes that encircle pooling pupils pointed with poisonous precision at their pulsing partner.
pass me your excuses,
I've grown starving hungry and stark-raving mad.
pin the knife on my back and call me lover, you liar,
I'll lean into your dagger and sing back with laughter.
misdirected malicious intent positioned on the bull's eye of your chest,
sink another three arrows into the target and dance round the corpse in victory with shaky knees,
sprinkling suspicion onto sapling trees stunting growth in both directions,
suspended air in leaves swings over my early grave graven with images of Indra.
stave off sympathy with a tall glass of cyanide,
sinister smirk slinks onto your face through the fissure cracked at the cornered sides of the mouth.
leisurely lies are boiling over the brim spilling tar onto the floor,
curdling to mold
decompose the muffled mystery
muttered by dubbed-over lips -
can you decode the silent spaces to glimpse
the ugly truth?
Rowan Eyzaguirre Nov 2014
If I was the only reason for you to stay clean, what does that make me?

I feel like I was a rule you wanted to break. A chain for you to pull on.

I wish I could have been the difference I needed in you. But there's no reasonable way for me to hold myself responsible for your change.

Heaven and hell both know you would rather leave than be responsible for mine.

So in what fairness is it that I take charge of your life?

I cannot be the cure for your lifestyle. I cannot be held responsible for your sobriety and your relapse all wrapped up in one resentful package.

I wanted so badly for us to share our growth. But the expectation we both set for each other now seems like it was rooted in desperation and spite.

Wasted life like mine trying to be the splint you use to graft your life together and hold it fast while you grow, feels like a fence trying to stop a tree from expanding.
Stunting your growth and breaking me in the process, to no avail.

Bark engulfing my time-fragile frame of linked cage, hopelessly there to keep you safe. Your strong life breaking and bending my twisted metal body, determined to taste the poisoned stream on the other side of my weathered wire you see so clearly as prison bars. Awaiting my mistake as to justify a sip of the lethal spring so close to your roots.

I so desperately have tried to keep you safe from those toxic waters you are so dedicated to live by. I've tried, and I have failed, to be the source of your change.

My broken and mangled wire will lay to rust on the river bank, while I watch your roots soak up the volatile liquid you so desperately seek. Then shrivel up and rot while my brittle iron oxide body hopelessly decays and cries rust atop your dying trunk. Wishing something had been different.

You didn't choose to live so close to the water, but I chose to make one last stand surrounding your body like a prison of demands. It isn't your fault that your here, but it's my fault for thinking my life could stop you.

-RÆ
Quentin Briscoe Jul 2014
Whistle if you dare...
compliment if you must...
And Die the most brutal way imaginable..
at the hands of cowards..
afraid of their own imperfections
Will they still
Till you..
no longer for just the glare of a woman
but for the stunting of your pride...
the capture of your soul
The control...
beat your mind until your teeth bleed gold..
your fist scream ******
and your heart is broken
given you the mentality of a Dope boy
Not a Black Boy..
Fight for what he believes
Now you fight just to breathe
because Air ain't free
and neither is your smile..
because they've beating you senseless
worthless....
unrecognizable as the Kings and Queens
you once were...
what a horrible death...
through the deception
that you will always be less...

— The End —