Raised to be skeptical

 I keep having this fantasy in my mind that you’ll be the one to help me put together the pieces

 and instead of trying to understand my past you’d help me stay present and focused on what’s recent 

To be honest I like how you’re so well put together, 

so sophisticated and decent,

That’s probably why  I’ve been ignoring the rest and letting your number occupy my recents 

I was hesitant about telling you this because I didn’t know what you’d say, 

I guess I’m trusting that if you don’t want my heart 

you’ll hand it back to me 

and not throw it away

Seems like since we’ve met 

I’ve been looking at you like you you’re heaven sent 

because at this point it seems like our paths crossing was inevitable and evident 

So even if we don’t go passed friends

 I’m happy we ever got a chance to talk. 

Just know that me and you being us will always be a thought. 

” you know a nigga was raised to be real skeptical”

The Sinister Statistic

When you look at me what do you see? 
Do you see me as I am or as an image portrayed on tv? 

Am I being judged based on my character or on an infamous Gangster who’s plans you wish to shatter. 

Maybe Nino brown or frank Lucas, because maybe then it would make sense why you have to put me through this.

You seem adamant about killing my confidence and condemning my grace, because youre certain that men where I’m from are such a disgrace.

You try to hide your fear but it can’t help but show, because you begin to shake whenever you feel I’ve gotten to close.

although Id rather be friends you prefer the role of a foe, quietly praying I’ll take the plea and go back to the ghetto. 

I know why my brown tint frightens you, it’s because the government has fed you lies that you believe are true, and now that I’ve seen this side of you….I’ll probably never be able to confide in you. 

You question if I care but they answer is clear… because if I didn’t I wouldn’t standing right here….in your court room, pleading for mercy, while you think of creative ways to hurt me. 

I call your prejudice and you get so offended, becoming more anxious to punish me for crimes YOU’VE invented.

I tried to remain stoic but a part of me wants laugh…..at the plaintiff who’s blinded by a desire for cash….Is this what happens when the love doesn’t last? and Usian can’t even outrun your past? 

If I say sorry, will that make up for the decisions I’ve made? If I pawn all my jewelry can I escape being chained? Or does it benefit you more if I’m stuck in a cage?   

If you were me what would you do to maintain? If you lived where the cowards were murdering the brave, and your only option was to become someone’s slave.