ANKH
I no longer cry
because no one cares
because no one listens
Rules are to be followed
by those who do not make them
Life is hard
for the man
who has no rights
So I write; I write about
being alone
I write about injustice
I write about going to sleep
hungry & waking up cold
I write about being surrounded
by three walls & a cage; like a kennel
I relate to stories I read
that take place in the 1030’s
when a man had to hang his
head low & avoid eye contact
when being spoken to by authority
2016 & I’m the true story
of what’s life like as
a slave.
By: Ghost Writer
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...
Poems