Tired I’m Tried of bureaucrats controlling me. Taking my tax dollars telling me that I have to send my loved one to fight a war the same war I’m fighting against in my back yard. The war we started when we initiated Retaliated cause we had a small boo-boo slapped on a band-aid and repair our K-need-s like big bullies we ran And hitting Raheem for his lunch money Made him stand in free lunch lines as we stripped him of his Integrity I’m tried of being the bully I’m tried of loopholes with silly clauses Cause Miss-emancipation with silly niggro’s killing each other on 2x2 blocks Baggy jeans Crack fiens Ghetto Gold Sliver hoops Hoochie girls Yo baby’ Raping’ Put 5 on dis man you got twamp the block is hot Ghetto birds float for fun like misguided missiles Launched on small villages No way out of my concrete jungle I’m tried of accepting with out a head nod of thank you or some type of appreciation do you have what it takes to create wishy-washy decisions please. I beg of you come to some type of concrete conclusion End my sentence and start again I’m tried of the homeless men who run from The “normal” people, to flip out to realize “We can help” One foot in the grave the other straddling The fence I’m tried of being ignored by women Because they’re not sure what to do with me I don’t fit the mold I am not in the box Looking through the box On top of the box and And somewhere close to the box I am tried of being the Only one who’s sees truth for what it is I am tried of being the last in line Because my last name starts With the letter “W” but the first to die in Movies, on street corners in books In schools and on the job TORN Thorn in my side stick up my spin Prunes in my prune juice I ‘m tried of bureaucrats telling me What I need to do for the honor of my country A country that forgot I was a person When I came home from war world 1, 2, 3, Injected me with hepatitis to see if I was like the king of the titans History I am tried of history white me out like a simple edit mistake Do you know if it wasn’t for me? We would have mathematics I got tried of carrying my cowry shells So I broke them into section and label them numbers Un Duex Tre’ Uno Dos Trece (American Sign Language or point to the audience) Human calculator I became I’m tried My feet hurt my dawgs is barking Up the wrong sap tree I got stuck and the earth became my cushion I am tried of this Writing about my trouble and my sorrows I am tried of explaining my queerness to you Did you have to “come out” of the proverbial closet? When you know you like Jane and you kissed her For the first time and your dad said son this is for you This is your right **** you and your heterosexual right; I can be in and out….