The Beast

A snapshot expose into life as an NYC homeless shelter resident when you are there with your children. Work in progress.

The Beast

Made me hate what I love and cherish
Due to the innumerable head and life games
They play without measure

Everyday I must remind myself that I don’t do this for them
I do it for my children who remain my very world, my breath, my gems

Sunken Place a*s Negros thirstily oppressing their own
Massa Commissions Black and Brown faces in tandem with White Supremacy
To desperately and enviously hold the seeming voiceless down
Mic Check…1, 2..3…

Ahem…
Overstepped bounds by the ghetto fabulous, unprofessional and incompetent
I’ve never seen so many Coons
Collecting paychecks to mete out their personal judgments and resentments

DHS, ACS, HRA and the like
All greedily preying like wolves on lives of the downtrodden, those who misstep and fall
Disgusting thieves of life
Unaware that some of us are the very leaders of that pack to whom
The pack heeds the call

Check…
I See your weak move, and raise you your livelihood
One paycheck away, maybe 2 from the plight you look down on from your high horse
To mete out your condescending and ill placed judgements

ACS cases to make you “toe the line” and used like a choke collar
To silence the bold, All for the Almighty Dollar
To their ill constructed altars of arrogance
To which they insist you Bow, and if you don’t
Your family is thrown into the undertow
And written off as simple parental incompetence and or drug dependence

Nevermind your pedigree, education, work history or professionalism
You are a cog in the machine, an uncooperative function of capitalism
You see, they get paid for every case they hit you with
To steal your breath, your peace, your hope, your fight
To mark you for The Beast of The System
To pillage your sleep in the night

It’s all by design to have you picked apart
Constantly distanced from your dreams of a new and promising restart
Constantly battling for survival
Until living and existing is your dreams sole rival

HRA’s role is to pay the shelter and ACS to also keep you in line,
Dragging you to their time stealing and soul sucking offices
To be mishandled by former crack addicts who resent their jobs
And passed around to other incompetents like a train of wild drunken men
Pulling at unsuspecting victims orifices
Yeah, it’s that raw, the sodomization that humiliating
Because everyone’s just a case number
And if you get out of line and express discontent
And call THEM on their s**t
Their “special police” and Top Flight a*s security
Are there to complete your berating

You see, each tendril functions in harmonious collusion
All ready to send the system hounds for you to stand down your disillusion
Juggling so much despair, injustice and humiliation
The wear and tear breaks you down
Physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally and sometimes ethically
Then they mandate mental health services
To diagnose away their created realities

This is the very dangerous game they play with human beings
As if they are foreign agents contracted to hired to character and spiritually assassinate
Haughtily acting as if there is no accountability to anyone
Because their aim is to pull you out of your true self
In order to casually write you off as just another drug addicted militant

Peep Game Ya’ll the s**t gets very real
Everyday people are chewed up and spit out
Devoured for Staring bullshit in the face and calling it by its PROPER NAMES
Railroading, blackballing, Envy, Character Assassination, Clipboard Bullying, COWARDICE

Constantly clawing at your time, energy and spirit like a Rockefeller
Lustily shopping for a new Melanated heart on some Coagula type s**t
Trying to bore inside your sanity to tip the scales of imbalance in your shifty favor
The dishonest weights you pile into lives
Weighed by your insistently and deliberately skewered lack of perspective

You fucktards think you have other's lives in your crooked crosshairs
But fail to understand that everybody’s soul ain’t for sale
Especially when you charging us our own wellbeing as the cost of admission
To your systemic circus of perverted pervasive traumatization


So many casualties strewn throughout NYC and resentfully laid bare due to the kind of games
You demons are known for;
On the trains, in the subway stations, in the parks during the summer, in abandoned building breezeways and alleys, on the welfare rolls, in crack houses, mental clinics and rehabilitation centers
The price those who came before me paid to defect from the vicious self-entertaining
Game of survival you force innocents and guilty alike, to play

Holding residents' housing hostage for some imagined personal vendetta
Like we got to beg you criminal low life b*****s for the s**t we worked for
In this mindset, outside forces are eyeing the intended agenda
To profit off your "committed crimes" every step of the way
While marketing your “solutions” to created woe as both Salvation and penalty
In true sickening religious form
Absolving your guilt with still bloodstained hands is pure LUNACY

Destabilization is the business that you all are really in
Because you’re constantly planting landmines in barren fields littered with glass
Only to jack our shoes and the light with which we need but without them, are forced to navigate your twisted labyrinths
Simultaneously hiding behind policies to avoid implication through being named
Witcho trifling, miserable a*s

Dodgy gas lighting and crack head double speak y’all have perfected
Hoping that the mass burial grounds your individual closets contain don’t get resurrected
But I’m that one that’ll exhume all your s**t
Just to make you pay Karma back and make sure you understand
YOU GOT ME TWISTED!!!!!

By Rashida Grant-Seales aka 24K Mind©
03/29/2017 11:06 AM