Graffiti on the wall, the struggle, and politics that follow

Location

Sometimes I feel like graffiti on a wall

Why do foolish kids waste paint?

In this life like prison

Where the government holds a shank

To stab the economy

On so many levels

Then burry the remains in the neighbor’s yard

With rusted shovels

That speak the blasphemies

Of a million devils

Oops I said devils but please don’t think I’m preaching

Because how could I preach

Without the proper teaching

I’m only reaching

Out in hopes of grasping your mind

Because the wisdom hidden in these words

These melancholic words

Are dangerous like bullying kids from columbine

What makes it dangerous is that

Until you know this

You’ll remain blind

By the lies

Of those backwards robin hoods

In suites and ties

Who tell their lies

Like saying they care for all

But only the rich man flourishes while the poor man dies

Do you want proof of this?

See my fist

Bloody and bruised from fighting stereotypes

I went to the ER

And all I got was some sterile wipes

Because they didn’t like my Medicare plan

So I didn’t get checked

They balled up my freedom threw it to the pits of hell

And told me to fetch

Do you hear these emotions?

Graffiti is more than a sketch

But you didn’t know that

Because y’all don’t see the poetry in struggle

And the struggles of politics

Like its cool we got our first black president

But didn’t you hear what I said

How could we be proud of this

& since I’m silenced like graffiti

People judge the scars and burns they see

This is urgent, as serious as any other emergency

At least hear what I have to say

Before you start judging me or hurting me

Either one can leave my self esteem

At a murder scene

But since it’s all emotional

There’s no proof of damage

You blood thirsty fiend

Treating me like graffiti on a wall

A vandalism with no creator at all

But since I carry the weight of compassion

This struggle

I mean wall

Just might fall

So I should be the shaky one

And not y’all

See y’all just don’t understand

How the ghetto is its own little playground  

Playing baseball being pitched hard Knox

Swung and you missed

Frustrated by those blue lights

Who cruise by?

Using calm yet confusing words

Trying to get you pissed

Dang

I feel like graffiti on a wall

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

Comments

MVP-Most Valuable Poet

very catchy

cool punchlines

like the rhythym of the poem, sounds like a verse in a rap song

continue to build off your creative mind

 

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