Trapped In Schisms

These women love your pocket, because of their vanity

They swear their virtuous, but exemplify insanity

Penetrating the heart isn’t executed, by reaching into another mans pocket

It’s made by a soulful connection, more electrifying than a socket

the aboriginal people get treated like scum on the reserves

their way of life was torn apart and disturbed

inequality derives from pretentious insolence

I lead you out of schisms; providing compassionate sentiments

stick-up kids want to take cocaine out the trap house

they will put the gun to your face, and move silently like a mouse

drug dealers are constantly looking forward to their next chop

they take steps backwards, but swear their on top

it doesn’t take much to get shot or stabbed

especially when you are blessed with the gift to gab

fabulous visions is how I attain better living

I would love to take away lives, but instead I’m giving

I’m steeped in vice, but don’t believe the hype

I’m a whole grain like brown rice

this world can rip apart your spirit

that’s why I write complex poems–nothing generic

serving a purpose, with each word I produce

logical predispositions is what I deduce

murdering me is impossible, so enemies slander my reputation

I saw degrees of truth beyond what you call inspiration


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