I am not a hoodlum
I am not a hooded suspect
since the pandemic
crack cocaine epidemic
I have been the subject
let my eyes speak
what your tongue
will not confess
hear me loudly feel me tenderly
I am generally ruled by no one
and I will not bow down to the gun
fear is not my mother, father
brother, sister nor cousin
I am kin to the spirit of the pen
that multiplies by the dozens
I speak the truth and know
the truth that I speak
and there is nothing on earth
that can stifle me that's trifling
death is normal company
I don't close my eyes to sleep
I'll be at home when it comes for me
everyone that I ever loved
death's angel stolen away from me
my eyes are full though they
may appear to be empty
my stagnant tears have yet
to fall down on me
my current flow is insane
I tied my feelings to a track
stood back and watch
a train run over my pain
just to listen to the
other internal entities complain
an experience that only
my inner child can explain
to the one who scribbles
prognosis in fine red ink
on yellow legal size notepads
diagnoses no dads
who's seed are we
we had dads
like drug deals gone bad
choked and yoked
by a devilish establishment
who put poison in the semen
and you call me a demon
2014 WIZE DOM
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