This poem...
This poem right here...
This poem right here was written for the children who never thought of writing
For those like me who had to grow up fighting.
Sometimes frightened to walk a few blocks in your own city.
This poem will get you home.
This poem be smooth like butter on your biscuits.
This is for the misfits
Rich kids
Poor kids
Police-kicking-in-your-door kids
Won't-see-daddy-no-more kids
Kids on the honor roll
trying to stay honorable
They've been taught what's right so they fight to honor those
And I wrote to honor those
To let you know you're not alone
So, in actuality this poem its not a poem
It's a hand
It's an ear
It's a a shoulder
It's a blanket when the world feels cold
An umbrella against all of life's rain
Emotional medicine for all your pain
This poem...
This poem right here...
This poem right here is for you.
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