lloydboy35
 10400 
|
|||||||||||||||||||||
CATEGORY
life
Dear Black History,
It's clearly that you're merely a mystery
well at least parts of you, still seen at
a blind side view
seems a mass is forgotten, except the
part about slaves and cotton
ain't that rotten
I'm still diggin' from what's hidden, I dont
want to add or take from what was written
you appear once a year, but I hold you in
my heart twelve months
I love you Dear
You must be registered to leave a comment. Registration is FREE.
COMMENTS
No comments. Be the first to enter a comment.
OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY lloydboy35
The Ozonefeel as if I'm on a different planet if time be granted than someday I'll soar from the floor to the deepest elevation on a different concentration a diffrent mindset I cant even figure it yet emerge into this literature herb verbal narcotics for my nerves dissect the average intellect with this savage dialect  |
Oh Lovefrom the fire love, to the affair in the pub
commitment rush cant explain why i leave her
|
Oh Lovefrom the fire love, to the affair in the pub
commitment rush cant explain why i leave her
|
Oh Lovefrom the fire love, to the affair in the pub
commitment rush cant explain why i leave her untouched
|
Oh Lovefrom the fire love, to the affair in the pub
commitment rush cant explain why i leave her untouched
|
Alcohol Affairhere we encounter again
and each time we meet
you control and defeat
|
Freetemporal pursuits
my enclosed booth
my Bible, my livelihood
|
Cipher Planet(This Is Hip Hop) |
When Will Change Comecrime influence fluent ebonics bars that mislead the scars the chronic negativity planted into the seeds a thug's passion he only shrugs *** the effect of his infractions threats and distractions prescription for his afflictions a sickening addiction and tradgedy enforcing street encryptions it's sad to see ignorant the frustrated viligants invaded by the urban militants the community's unity is divided some black leaders are crooked and lopsided so we are constantly under scrutiny in order for things to work it takes us all to adjust though most of our hands are up than explain why these pigs are still shooting at us |
Cypher Planettongue twisters, spitters and hand waverstrue hip hop Gods and Saviorsmic ventors, flow inventorsunderground mentorscrowds, poetry out loudbody rockersin assignment, head boppersin confinementits like grammar chronic for the soultwisted ebonics thats stone cold on phonicswith a negro alphabet in an incomprehensible setonly for crowd mover vetswho do it for the love of the movement |
