Voiceless demonstrations with sticks Throwing hand signs out the window, praying That we all make it home...
Just lite a candle for my homie and poured a Fifth of brown water_too many memorials on These curves.
Self destruction immortalizing ill-prepare Men on blood strained pavement, I grip this Four-five wondering why?
A life where your response is the only reason You exist.
Made a vow to serve these street, but every Time we ride I pray them nigga miss.
YOU ARE READING
Concrete
PoetryWe live in a society where our melanated brothers are deemed malefactors and placed at the bottom of America's social totem pole. "Concrete" enlivens the wails of all these swarthy voice unheard. It giving testimony to the plight unseen by so many...
