UntitledA Poem by YoungT They view me differently, not as one of them. Roses grows beautifully, but I just stay a stem. I was once a seed. Needed to be nurtured so that I could succeed. I grew up fast and irregular. Not knowing nothing, I was unsure. The choices I chose led me to the lyrics I now compose. The obstacles I took, stole my thoughts like a crook. Leaving me in my melodies; a never heard of hook. They see me only as labels and not what’s within. They can baptize me over and over but ill never be the same again. Sand thrown on my body as im called a sand n****r. The labels of a white man, go figure. Judged for every little move I make. Taunt me, but don’t understand I can’t break. For years I struggled just to end up somewhere. Survival of the fittest, these streets are not fair. I strived to achieve a goal they said I couldn’t accomplish. My goal was making it in life, that was my only wish. I felt like a young soldier in an one man army not knowing if I could win. Told to keep my head up, but felt my enemies getting closer as they were steady creepin. Failure shouldn’t be accepted. So they didn’t accept me as a kid. Sometimes I wish I can go back, change the s**t I did. Saw so much as a youngin, I just wanted to get older. When I grew up I realized the weather got colder. Taken down for actions that weren’t mine. Had to testify guilty or death would be my fine. Darkness covers up my light. The words spoken towards me are not right. Judged by what they see not know. In front of them I am just an actor on a show. View me how they want me to act. But to blind to see the real fact. I am great beyond power. But they see me getting worse by the hour. Deep within my eyes there is a story being told. A little girl left to grow up all alone in the cold. The streets raised me so some say I had it rough. They don’t realize it is the labels put on me that made it tough. She’s a gangster; she won’t amount to nothing. Now I’m older and ready to show them I am something. They favor one color just like most. They rep a side not just a coast. Proud to be who I was taught to be. Your labels now mean nothing to me. Call me a w***e, a s**t, a thug anything you please. A child within you whom was only taught to tease. Those words you once called me made me strong. Steady ignoring you as I knew you were wrong. I was trapped within four walls of despair. Couldn’t ask for help, because no body would care. So I took a pen and some paper. Wrote so much words I hoped they’d be my spaceship out of there. Soon realized I was my own door to success. So I kept on writing while my ink soaked out stress. Now I write daily trying to show them all. They told me I would fail, but deep down in me, I never knew how to fall. Couldn’t take the heat, they said I had no power with in. I told them I’ll become someone, but they told me to keep wishin. So a wish is what I made. And now they notice as I slowly fade. Success is calling out to me and now’s my time to chase it. Just remember, I wont forget yall when I make it.
© 2013 YoungT |
AuthorYoungTGlendale, AZAboutA young spoken word artist. I am from Phoenix, Arizona. My Pen name is Young T. I tend to write dark meaningful spoken word. more..Writing
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