I am the one who got left behind, the one who disturbs your peace of mind.
I am the survivor of the street wars, gangs, prisons and ghettos, the one you prayed would remain blind to the signs of destruction.
I am the one you said would be nothing, the one who yelled; screamed; pled and begged for a true chance to be something, anything but a statistic, a dream, I wanted to be great like Martin Luther King.
I am the gun you hold now and the one you held then, I am the crack, ecstasy, meth, heroin, and valiums you sold your sister, mother, brother, father, girl and friend.
I am your beginning, middle, end, first, second, and last.
I am the dirt that use to be your grass, I am the reaction after the shotgun blast.
I am the enemy and friend from the past you try to forget.
I am all the derogatory names you've heard
I am the sky, stars, sun, moon and birds
I am words whispered that you've never heard
I am the fire that burns, the wind that blows
I am the blood that flows from bullet holes and fist to face blows
I am the prisoner that each one of you knows
2015 nov 17
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2015 may 7
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2014 oct 18
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2014 oct 18
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2014 oct 18
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2014 oct 18
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