Ghetto walls

Sometimes it gets hard for me to see beyond these ghetto walls

The idea of freedom gets lost inside these red brick walls

We watch Brothers, Sisters, Mothers, and Fathers get chained and carried away

In the middle of chasing freedom.

Dreams get lost in these walls but I refuse to let that happen to mine.

I won’t allow my dreams to be pushed aside

To dry up,

as if they were a raisin in the sun. Or allow my dreams to be deferred.

So instead of becoming a another ghetto story I’m looking to become a ghetto glory

Reminding kids of what exists beyond these red brick ghetto walls.


The time that we are living in is more than decadent

Many of us at home quarantining


some of us are protesting the death of a man killed over a counterfeit $20

some of us are sitting at home collecting unemployment struggling to pay a bill


someone just took their stimulus check to the doctor

for a down payment on their new body

(new ass, new tits, new body, who this?)

and someone else took it to the dope man for a reup

This is land of the free, right?

So free that in the middle of a recession, we find the time to buy…

I. Don’t. Need. You.

These n*ggas be having me fucked up

You’re the one attracted to me.

I give you play because I like you.

If I wasn’t a different vibe…

by now you would’ve passed up on me.

What I really need from n*ggas is open pockets

and wallets.

I stay employed.

There isn’t shit you could give me that I couldn’t wake up and get for myself.

It might take me longer but the point still is…

I. Don’t. Need. You.

I could wake up and get for myself

And have you paid for what I wanted just because.

God knew what he was doing when he raised me without a father.

He created a monster.

One that could get up and get for themself even if

it cost their superficial appearance.

I don’t need you.

But by keeping you around I get what I want x2

For young boys that didn’t have a father, there was Kobe.

And for young girls like me who had fathers that chose to be absent, there was Kanye.

Growing up knowing you had a father was different than growing up without one. It was a strange existence really.

Like just over the east river my dad was chilling in Harlem with his dad. Meanwhile, in Long Island City my mom was struggling to raise 3 kids on a measly CNA salary.

Choosing Kanye as my father figure was easy. He was a man of faith, like my father. He was arrogant, like my father. And he loved hard, just like my father. No matter the distance my father made sure that his love was felt and heard even during the hard times when I didn’t want it. …

I don’t remember the exact day

But it was a few nights ago

I stood right where the living room met the


Staring absentmindedly into the mirror,

when a random thought of her popped into my head.

Her, being my Grandma.

Months have gone by since she passed,

but every now and then I get a fleeting

memory of her that lingers in my head

then flees like a monarch butterfly at the end of spring.

As time goes on her absence gets easier to process

but it will never stop my eyes from tearing up

Just by the thought of her.

She was my muse,

My confidant,

My monarch.

Everyday without her makes me feel lost

Until those little memories come fluttering through my mind

Reminding me who I’m living for.

David not from Brooklyn.


lived and walked,

all over himself

Until life forced his hand,

so he could breathe again.

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