WHEN WILL I BE?

When Will I Be?

         Will I be

         All I was made to be?

Will have,

All that was made for me?

                                                  or

         Will Devils laugh,

         As they lay wait for me?

Will I wander a Slave’s patch,

Wandering far, far away from free?

What is written in my Destiny?

Was what was scripted nonetheless to be.

Will Be?

    By: PHEONIXX

FREEDOM

Judge says, “Seventeen!”

Somehow I’ve spent one day?

Free! Even as slave.

By: PHEONIXX

A LITTLE HEART, SOUL AND PAIN

I hope to be home on bond until September.

If we keep this pace, I’ll be done with trial by November.

I call myself  THE PHEONIXX,

But, I feel like a dying ember.

If the verdict comes back guilty,

Then twenty plenty years they won’t remember.

My Co-De’s still lie about what they saw,

Say they saw me the third member.

The D.A. wants to saw me down,

And not soul is yelling “TIMBER!”

The Judge don’t want to bend,

Even when the law is limber.

I heard Rehab got my mother.

That addiction still wants to pimp her.

My father is not around,

The stampede is coming now,

No Mufasa to save Simba.

My blood flows Africa Sahara,

But, still my heart pumps cold December.

My Attorney says, “Take the Ten.”

But on the table, only fifteen.

He says, “All The Evidence Is Circumstantial.”

Somebody please tell me W.T.F. is that supposed to mean?

And so its,

Trial or a Cop-out.

Cop-out is an outdate.

Trial is a knockout…

Trial or a Cop-out.

Cop-out is an outdate.

Trial is a knockout…

By: PHEONIXX

More to come...