For the False Teachers

by J. Griot

There's a negative perception of my section
Like it's eight
Still I elevate
Create so we escape
Myself I take to different places
Races seem to have some differences
What's common is indifference
But allow for what's conflicted
Positive becomes restricted
Gifted children disrespected
She doesn't think that they can make it
But I'm the True and living proof
And the truth is 
She can't take it
Break it open!
That's the box I could never think inside
I've got no time to play the fool
Too many people fought and died
Now babies cry for lack of love
Some just try to be a thug
I think about it when my face 
Is on the prayer rug
We wear white gloves
They still get dirty
I don't feel the age of thirty
I'm unusual,
Like Tiger if he fails to hit the birdie
Whoever heard me
Respect me
As I strive to be myself
I keep it real without blue steel
I use the books up on my shelf
We need some help
Not pessimism
It seems like something's missing
But her arrogance and stance
Won't allow her heart to listen
So I ask

Why the hell are you here?!?

For the False Teachers by J. Griot

© Copyright 2002. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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