Days in the life of a poet

When life gets too complicated and our hearts and minds seek out what is good and provides us sustenance...poetry is the breath of life. Words allow us to communicate...to express that within us that is most precious and real. We crave that which is familiar and gives us comfort...read and receive*

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Hood Drama

When the fools on the corner
Got jokes about the users
(Customers of the game)
Bustahs and abusers
It’s all bout money; no names

When the fiends in the alley
Laugh and giggle
When another balla dies
Bullet in the back of his head
No chance to say goodbye

Hoodrat bitches, clueless witches
Sell their souls for that paper
Don’t care bout what you say
Got to move that weight Black
Only real players, get to play

And the kids sufferin mad pain
Baby daddy in the grave
Baby momma, get the blame
Shit in the streets, strong like waves
The kids wishing for better days

Smoke a blunt, drink a brew
Find a crackhead for a 5 dollar screw
Die from AIDS; thought you knew
Hoodrat drama on the day to day
Sooner or latter, we all gon pay*
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