How I Became A Poet

When I was 7, my mother sent me to a private school & told me,"Son I will spend all the money in the world, to have life not take its toll on you". Well, she was wrong, because somehow I started listening to devilish songs & falling into something you may not like. The game of hide & seek, turned into you better hide, because if I find you, I'll rob you &take away whatever I like. Which later escalated into the state of mind, that "I'll kill you & laugh, then wait for the cops to come, so that right away they would know it was me. But I could deal with all of that being in the back of my mind, as long as I could take away the time, that I learned about the bloods & the cuz & most of the worlds drugs. I hated that private school. They took away my native tongue & animosity, but luckily, I found my long lost friend drowned in poetry. As I started to dry him off, I cried, because I could see the fear & pain in his eyes & he hated me. I left when he needed me, because by itself how did you expect animosity to protect my tongue from hostility. I hope, I hope I never again in life have to go through anything as bad as having to come home & put a 9mm to my stepfather's dome, because he put his hands on my mom. "Pull the trigger", "Pull the trigger", "PULL THE TRIGGER"!! BOOM!! He falls to the floor & lays in a pool of his pitiful blood. As my mom cries, "Son what did you do"? I laugh & say, "You don't have to worry about this fool anymore". Once a young child, full of lies, with a misguided mind, until I was pushed to what these people consider the "RIGHT" side, and I guess I made so many mistakes, because I was pushed to be so perfect. But I won't give them all the blame, because early on I figured out in my 2% of a brain, that life's no game & I've already seen more money, than most people see in their lifetime. A rich kid, as some may say, with out of town roots. Speaking to you with humbleness, so please believe that everything that comes out of my mouth is the truth. When I was 10, I heard a strange noise upstairs & ran to witness my uncle choking his own mother. With one thought & never another, that 9mm slowly crept right back into my hand & shown itself to the middle of my uncle's mind. At that split second, I could see my emotions transparently, transporting their past fear into my uncle's eyes. February 27, 2010, that man died & at his funeral I still cried, because hey in life everyone has at least one bad day. March 2009, I acted as a fool & got my first tattoo, on my hands. 2 words,"South Side". Not thinking of what this could stop me from doing in the future. I let the devil mark this retched permanent ink on my skin, just so that some people in this world could judge me from a negative perspective. One day, I will get them removed, BUT not for you, because it's something that I want to do. When it rains, I like to go up on the rooftop & watch the dark cloudy sky, because I am the eye of the storm, and after, once it's all sunny, all I see are black & white rainbows & a world full of zombies & fuck!! I want to go home, but my spaceship is in the wreck, so I'm just stuck here all alone. As I sleep, in my dreams all I hear are screams of desired dead people. I try not to listen, just to stay sane, but they slowly overtake my brain & drive me crazy. When I was 12, I started actively writing poetry. Just to maybe get people to understand the concept of my life story. What it took me a while to understand, is that,it's unjustifiable. That even if you go your whole life reading the Bible, you will still make plenty of mistakes. So no, I don't want to be known, as a rich kid. I want to be remember, for my native tongue & animosity, that pushed me, to reveal my life story, in this beautiful poetry.