I'm lost in the traffic this life of dying babies is tragic looking to heal a black tribe give me a glimpse of black magic. Haven't been happy since the day you died I look to the sky fly my ghetto wings hoping I get by I try to paint a perfect picture so many cracks in my life stare at me there goes a broken mirror no images damage looking to exchange my bad to black magic.
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A Hero Of The Streets
PoesiaPoetry, Hardworking , Black Teen, Living Rough. Different Emotions Young Black Males Go Through The Day 2 Day Struggle Inside Different Areas of America They Wanna See Me Fall Is Not For All But If You Small Stand Tall With All Your Heart. You Can...
