Secrets Within

It’s  a little past midnight and something doesn’t feel quite right…

I’m sitting in bed, with crazy thoughts in my head, trying to understand why it’s so hard for Negros to get ahead.

I hear a siren and suddenly here comes that rush of adrenaline

There goes those red and blue lights, that never fail to excite…

A certain fear of authority I have, those lights ignite

That same siren I’m no stranger to, for it’s not that rare to hear em’ in this neighborhood

There’s a pounding at my door, a sound of Feds knocking that I can’t ignore

This constant feeling of being in a melting pot, the feeling of not knowing if I’m about to die or not.

The whole house smells like marijuana, but no matter if I’m high or not…

There’s one thing I can’t escape… This rich skin tone that never lets me elevate

I see there search warrant through the peephole, but I don’t see why they brought it.

It won’t be hard to find my “Secret Within.”

My Secret Within these walls, still appears on the outside… If I open this door, no matter what, this melanin is something I can’t hide!

Why bring a search warrant, if my life has not a single degree of guarantee?

I’m not opening the door, they better just kick it in, either way I’ll never win.

I’m patiently awaiting the boom of a battering ram, it may sound stupid but that’s my plan.

Oh shit, here we go there coming in, I raise my fist, for this movement is the only one I care to defend.

5,4,3,2,1 they’ve discovered my Secret Within, the officer’s eyes grow wide… Yeah I’m a nigga, I won’t pretend… they raise their guns and as you can guess, this is where my life story ends.

 

This poem is about: 
My country

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