They fear the king of the concrete jungle_equivalent to his Feline counterpart, save he doesn’t wear a mane and seldom Sleeps; green paper is on his brain.
His domain is an urban infrastructure where he hunts For Diffidence, always ready to protect his pride; they deem him a Beast, and his tool is his teeth_when it’s time to eat better, Believe he gon’ ride.
They fear the king of the concrete jungle; they label him a Malefactor, but, please, don’t listen to their lies_they stole his History, and his identity is a mystery_now his soul is on ice.
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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...
