Black Poetry : hood politcs

thespokesman

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Aug 5, 2003
308
1
Mo. City Tx/ Houston
Occupation
Designer, student
Hood politics

This a collection of poetry right
This is my book right
Let me let u in on something

I’m not the voice
You can speak thru me
Feel me…

Young lives..
This for da block
Parallel to being perpendicular
I ride for u, we both vehicular
Homicide, cuz we both coincide
With pride, we can longer hide
From the call from above
Charles called me scrub
…..scrubville…he was right
we all beg for a mic
we gottta a voice, but how do we speak
when something stands between bliss and bleak
see bliss is a spirit and so is bleak
hot food cold food we both eat

sometimes the path is cold
nose running
and we search for someone to hold
some of us hold a sweet, a cup of barre
I watched the demise of my people fall like tobacco from cigars
As we split this and get high
There’s gotta be more, its mysterious like foggy sky
Why..
Is the question I pose
Where is hope, when we get success and stick our nose
Up at other blacks, what a act
It’s like we got a little bit and we got trapped
This ain’t rule but we should clap back
And reclaim that which we rush to get at
But when u leave don’t act like u can’t come back
To those who wish they could replay that
It’s not too late
We got a do what we gotta do
As men and women, there’s more than blades and nails
We can build with blades and nails


a lil something to my hood
 

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