I be in the hood soaking in life to stay on top of my game, I don’t cook or cut but I’m still on top of the game, I travel block to block and still see cardboard murals and candles flickering pain. I could hear the sounds of echoing guns from distant slums, pa rum […]
Month: September 2018
It's a man's world
It’s a man’s world. We grew up with dreams embedded in our souls. Us poverty stricken boys dreamt the same, build an empire by any means to end living in shame. We constructed the foundation, hope was erected while we was youngens. It was us… Man. Blood, sweat, tears, if it wasn’t for one of […]
Living urban poetry
We use to pick the abandoned car with the most windows as a wind breaker in the winter, we would be in there wishing… We wasn’t wishing for a heater, although that would’ve been nice, we wished one of our house keys could turn on those old ass plymouths, dusters and novas so we could […]
