reaching Jekyll Island from Africa
hated us but probably sipped on Arabica
still continue to shatter us
BoRhyme
9800
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CATEGORY
just different
reaching Jekyll Island from Africa
hated us but probably sipped on Arabica
still continue to shatter us
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OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY BoRhyme
This Coupleshe's a late riser but an early settler their like night and day, he's a competitor, she just slay his spirits she's idle, he's survival, she hasn't a care squanders her time in her spare he can't seem to cure it, but he still endure it he chastises, she's pathethic she sasses him, she's totally hysteric she's afraid of reform and so he still weathers the storm as if he's alone yet he won't raise his hand at her on any occassion he's African American and she's Caucasian
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Character RenovationI had failed to retain that section in my life I used to blame for my imperfection strife though I was in hunt of correction I had lost all affection, it was difficult to tame agression the absent sessions left me stressing I was in pursuit to regroup was headed nowhere fast and so my firsthand task was ridding my surrounding cast which was utterly influential and smothering my potentials after a hard observation in the glass following was character renovation and so I massacred the mask |
For That Youththat youth without a guidance its's difficult to remain in compliance in this world of crazies if only i could be everywhere at everytime my strongest endeavors to keep you aligned that difference in a crime deterrence i'll be your rest assurance ease whatever disturbance that's a constant reoccurence instill a great work ethic so you can create a difference to be effective, that's my emphasis |
Church Todayfashion show, runway Sunday the whispers, the strippers in the choir the deacons desire the aisles, red carpet parades ushers but pimps on the weekdays, wild youth its just the sad truth the Bishop's office, drug dealers market that's why the first lady is in the mercedes the same tradition exhibition the front row Holy Ghost Show so sanctified, hands waving like a tide, misusing the tithes worldwide today's church is so foul, rath... |
After Hours |
For The Babiesinflicted pain, the shame, triflling father won't ever know a name, why bother or whoever he is for that matter the start of childhood future on the brinks to shatter some of these mothers too let's mention welfare, the abusive view a child shouldn't go hungry a growling stomach at a constant vomit she's entertaining a wild lifestyle, tricked out and foul head in a cloud of Mary Jane can't refrain from the pipe either daily routine, this is proccedure and so these children are born but never asked to be but can't apologize for being a catastrophy than the baby daddy have the nerve to come back from time to time and layup but the power is off, but won't payup she's deep throating, while the electric bill is floating but when he was present ... |
Off To Camphead in my lap, no turning back it's a rap now, I threw up my right hand with a vow unfamilliar territory,unsure of what was ahead I heard about killer stories, ammo, led, and camo humiliated from the strip search prior this trip felt like firery hell, I had a desire to bail water leaking out my pores, so hot the seats felt like melting pots we came to a roaring stop, forty bodies at drop at no definite leisure, an evacuation at a six second proccedure
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And That Was Thenthis current life, these restless nights these dreams to fufill, this present standstill if I had listened to mama the forty acres and a lama might have been closer opportunities wasted procastinated and prolonged cremated and long gone disobeying authorities delaying my blessings and aborting my priorites learned lessons today positive influence, maturity, came a long way in pursuance of my dreams through with the vent and the steam |
The Wandererreaching Jekyll Island from Africa hated us but probably sipped on Arabica still continue to shatter us |
Composition In The Skystretched in the hammock cloud feel the blood flow of my pen my thoughts have been aroused |