Growing Up

As a young boy I was immature, Living in Jonathan’s world, With a head as thick as steel; Having no appeal, To be instilled, Or filled, By another person’s thoughts towards me. I played every role in school there was to be played: Class clown, Trouble maker. It was natural for me to be kicked out every day. It’s sad how I was a young black boy, Who thought I was making my life’s own decisions. When in fact, I was playing into the plan, of another man; To have my hands, Tied feet, Bound and eyes, Blind towards the clear, Signs that read “You Are Mine” I let my mind be manipulated, Actions be premeditated, And almost fell into the trap They designated, For boys like me who propagated being ‘cool’, Facilitated dumb decisions, And assimilated, A long slate, Filled with, Numbers and dates, When written down affect your mind state and fate! Ha-ha, and then it hit me! All along I was being played like a fiddle. I was a boy trying to live in a man’s world, And figured out, That if I were to come about, Change MY actions, Reconstruct MY inner self, Learn from MY mistakes, I would be able to reconfigure the rules of their game, You see, They believed that they would make Me weak, When in actuality, I was made strong. I have learned to accept the responsibilities of MY actions, And subjugate Myself to My own fate I look back in utter disdain, At myself degradation, And invitation, To be commercialized and manipulated By a society that wouldn't lose sleep, If I was afflicted, Hurt, Or left out to die! I danced to their tune, Now it is time for them to dance to Mine.