Boyz In The Hood

Not a state where our bodies are inert,
More so a way for us to know more than the ‘curb’…

Kids like me?
Usually sleep walk through a Street life so prevalent in the lives of the Urban.
Sifting through so many messages as they go on a search with,
Fully loaded pistols or a pack of some ‘work’ and,
Illuminating your entire soul with Pride for your land full of hurt and…
More hurt and…
More hurt and…
A bit of happiness at times but,
Right back to hurting…

What’s an extra dollar to your name?
If all it does is lead you to a grave,
Sooner than you want,
All for you to get paid,
At the expense of another’s addiction?…

You see a fiend for a drug.
I see a fiend for a hug.
I see a fiend holding drugs they picture as demons dancing on their shoulders while they hunt,
For some peace throughout the day!
In a world where you’re looked at as a piece of shit without a roof over your head,
Or without chains dangling on your neck,
As a prisoner to a check,
Joy is so hard to find,
Even for yourself,
When all you want is a single reason to avoid death,
By your own palms…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑

Create your website at
Get started
%d bloggers like this: