Trod On

by Zaki


i count the days,

knowing that crime pays in

dividends, my apprenticeship

in the field of my circumstances’ choice

causes me to voice a dissenting

opinion... descended upon

by the powers that

be, the power of

will, my only remaining faculty...

i tackle these issues with

a spiritual fervor..

persistence, leading to

redemption and

i am delivered into a safe haven...

my saving grace is

a deliberate pace, as i chase

away the pain..

using a controlled substance

for assistance, i build

a resistance to these diseased

mind frames... painting

a picture of flawless (ness)...

best believe i be

the best man for the odd job..

robbed and stolen away

from home.. brought to where

the buffalo once roamed.. the

deer and antelope once

played, the african

enslaved and freedom delayed for the 3/5 (three-fifths),

not equipped to fight for

this life, fighting

for the right to be included

in the illusion.. led

into a perpetual confusion,

unable to reconcile my identity...


Trod On by Zaki

© Copyright 2004. 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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