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Note: before you read my poem if you don't have nothing nice to say in your comment then please don't comment at all, thank you.
Please Note: May contain graphic words.
Living the ghetto dream it remains to be unseen that everything you do has an impact on the ghetto, you say how you see well let me run it down to you, with your dope rocks and your sweat socks pants hanging so low I can see your butt crack, running around teaching our kids how to do something that's whack with out telling them the facts, like pulling this trigger will get you 25 with a L or selling that crack will F up your life, but n****'s don't think twice, I can Remember back in the day when we use to play hide and go seek in the streets until the street lights came on and you can hear your mom scream your name, but I guess kids don't do that no more because of boys like you who wanna be man running around playing real live cops and robbers, but you just don't get it do you, you just don't understand, I guess your just living that ghetto dream with 80,000 dollar car and your section 8 rent, NO! I aint hatin, I'm just saying,
Why buy a 80,000 dollar car before you by a house you say I'm hating but I'm just demonstrating on what not to do, but you don't have a dame clue your just trying to get ahead, While our young black boys are laying in the streets dead and the ground bleeds red from the blood that was shed, as little shauna screams for her dad, A dad that she's never had and her mom shakes herin the streets for A little bit of cheese and kelly is 15 and her baby just wont go to sleep as cry's please! but it remains to be unseen that your just living that ghetto dream, Trayvon is only 16 and he was shot and killed in the streets, and I can still hear his mom scream, MY BABY! But Young Mike is 16 and he sells dope rocks by the corner of the jukebox on the street of hard knocks, he doesn't think he will ever get caught, but remember life never stop, it keeps flowing like A river even after your clock stop but he's just living that ghetto dream with his 22"s and his general relief check, it's just a hot mess and no these streets never rest, so every time i walk out the door i put that S on my chest and pray to the Lord, if you make it pass 21 your just blessed, but there's no one succeeding in the ghetto because there is no success just miles of caskets and thousands of body at there final rest, as my cousin Da'Ron takes two to the chest now he's at his final rest, But I will remember him in memory and salute him with my fist in the air and I scream to the world! I will never live that ghetto dream because it remains to be unseen!!
This poem is dedicated to the Da' Ron Butler and my good friend Ronnie may you rest in peace.
Understand that not all Black/ African American or people of color are ignorant and to me the definition of the word n**** is Any ignorant or belligerent person of any race.
Copywritten June 24th 2013 all rights of them belong to Sensation the poet, Kim Edwards and the use of the poem without writers permission will result in law suit and or jail time
