Transcription
11-6-18
My Outlook of My Inlook
Sick ill-stated, force throw up as I think
of my past trash...
Out goes the garbage into the truck it
Crushed, and my post thoughts are mashed
My cries flow like ocean waves, lost deep
in my past of painful days
Wishing that life wasn't the same, a scared
little boy hoping life would change
Nestled in a spider web stuck in hell,
sharp pain in my heart now I'm ready to boil
Not good with all that emotional stuff,
so I change my thoughts, and put a mask on
this is how I bluff...
I'm judged by the color of my face, the look
in my eyes. This monologue of me I've had
enough
Sick of being lost and stuck in this
beef in these streets, with forced bad blood
through my unharmed virgin veins
Born into a city with heartship, drugs,
imprisoned parents, and street gangs.
I just seek to hope for better days, and
for my city to change, and those push away
thoughts to be rearranged into positive life
exchange!
By Anthony Heard, Jr.
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