But we all claim these city blocks we stroll
For it is the narcissism that we learn that burns us in the ash of ignorance
My country
My city, my town
My block
My street
My ownership is futile
What are these titles?

We blame those is constant cycles of psychological incapacitation
Stints that lack with patience
Flinched in tracks of greatness

My area code spoke volumes of red vs blue
A culture to accept amongst poverty
Shoes of tiresome speeds ran over telephone wires for territorial claims
The fingers were alphabetically inclined based on zip code

Colors spoke inartistically
Nothing affirmed but a paycheck for an Undertaker
A mothers tears create bird baths for doves
The very hue of the tee shirt we were all told not to wear

You will not wear red
You will not wear blue
You will not wear white
These indicate separation
Still fist flew every school day
Clockwork
Lunch time
Fight

And still this day
It's my block
My hood
My city
My turf
My territory
My world
My ownership is futile
But we all are flies in spider webs of narcissism

Peace to the blue the red the rag be worn
In unity with your family in which we all scorn
Let's us not fight each other but harmonization our vibrations

Tie my flag with yours
We neigh cast that of white

Peace

Forums: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.