The smile i used to have was so innocent and so prescious. Which later turned to battle scars and a mug of aggression. I taught myself to hold a pen, before school and my lessons. I hold it a bit different, journals full of confessions..
Went to school, the teacher told us draw whatever we think. I drew a small brown boy with a crown to be a king. The teacher looked confused and asked me who could that be. I found it quite obvious as i told her its me.
She told us write a story on whatever we want. I wrote a passage on step daddy who was beatin my arm. I always had a smile, so innocent and so chippa. Till the first day i heard somebody call me a .
What turned from a rare event to a daily routine. I went from good grades to skippin school, with the ones on my team.
Same kids i used to ride bikes with on the trail ! Who woulda thought the only time we write was sending letters to jail ! Sleepin on some couches, with the bugs and the mouses. Kept a weapon i wont speak on while i ran into houses.
It used to piss me off when ppl front like they whippin the pot. Remembered when i taught myself and how many grams that i lost. Finally i grew and i quit making excuses. My dreams were captured in my mind although at times they were elusive.
What it took for me to learn was my team got to changing. No longer were loyal, i shook my head in amazement. The very ones that said they'd kill for me, they didnt.. When i said id murder for them, i foolishly meant it..
Any young bruthas reading, out there chillin all day.. I put on momma these are facts, and please dont learn the hard way..
Hii Yella
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I Come to You as a Sinner
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Hii Yella says: Nooo not beatin my arm *beatin my mom* thats a bad place for a typo |
OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY Hii Yella
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My Soul Grows Dim...I dont laugh like i used to, my eyes used to be light. Im Depressed but i repress it to move on with my life. I used to joke alot, and most considered me bright. I couldnt see how, as these voids absorbin my sight. I was a child, biting my fingers, biting my nails. Biting the skin off my lips, and twirked my hair. Anxiety filled, but most would say that its different. Cuz how would a 5 year old ever be stressin? Heart breaks from outsiders never hurt me or break me. I always felt depression, but heart ache re awakes it. I laugh when i stub my toe, i laugh when i slip and fall. Hysterical when u push me over, and whenever i get hit, i scoff. A slave, so used to the pain i start to enjoy it. So even when im free, i ask the same master for employment... A repetitious cycle, expect no pitty, just trifle. I never expected them to do me like they did michael... Vick? For false accusations, of something he never created? Jordan? Becoming the greatest but lettin outsiders ch... |
I Come to You as a SinnerThe smile i used to have was so innocent and so prescious. Which later turned to battle scars and a mug of aggression. I taught myself to hold a pen, before school and my lessons. I hold it a bit different, journals full of confessions.. Went to school, the teacher told us draw whatever we think. I drew a small brown boy with a crown to be a king. The teacher looked confused and asked me who could that be. I found it quite obvious as i told her its me. She told us write a story on whatever we want. I wrote a passage on step daddy who was beatin my arm. I always had a smile, so innocent and so chippa. Till the first day i heard somebody call me a . What turned from a rare event to a daily routine. I went from good grades to skippin school, with the ones on my team. Same kids i used to ride bikes with on the trail ! Who woulda thought the only time we write was sending letters to jail ! Sleepin on some couches, with the bugs and the mouses. Kept a weapon i wont speak on... |
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The Black TreeI was not lynched, nor was i whipped. Yet how did the FEELING of liberty get stripped? My branches, broken, my roots have been ripped. Yet happy, because the DREAM of success had me convinced,- That maybe I'm crazy to believe that WE are mentally handicapped... Im seen as racist when I speak on our liberties, rights, and ASK if WE may have them back.. I am the son of Tupac, and nephew of Huey Newton. A light skinned Malcom X, but was lost for a LONG time, puzzled, and looking foolish... I asked before, how did the FEELING of liberty, get stripped... I educated myself to find we NEVER had Liberty in ANY KIND of realistic sense. WHO are u to say go home, as if YOU were here first?.. Im stumped, but you WILL NOT pull my roots from out this earth. A mixed breed, who was thought to be some house negro.... They burnt EVERY LAST TWIG of my heritage... but yall still wanna shoot some free throws.. Smh.. 19 years is a short life, and short time, and Im TIRED of alll ... |