| Author | Message | ||
     Young_flame1 First Time Poster Username: Young_flame1 Post Number: 1 Registered: 12-2005 Rating: N/A |
Sometimes I rhyme slow, sometimes I rhyme quick I was always too slow and she was always do slick (at least that's what she wanted me to think) I remember getting so used to the smell that at one point it didn't even stink It just became like this natural fragrance But through it all she remained on my "A" list Though at night I would cry, wondering why, she continued to lie...to me All I ever wanted was for her to love herself just a little b/c (see) the rest she would have gotten from...from me I remember the glazed look in her third eye, while the other two mirrored the sky, purple hazed It always amazed me how she thought that shit never phased me I remember hanging my clothes out the window just so the stench of my old house wouldn't engage me I remember not breathing I remember not breathing like I remember teething (painful) The smoke was so faint, but so potent I remember her choking, I remember me coping (hell still coping) I remember her smoking (shameful) But not able, see I remember cane being the name to this fable Only not quite a fable, quite real I don't even think there's a bandade big enough to erase the pain I used to always feel when I looked in her face WHEN I LOOKED IN HER FACE...Man when I LOOK in her face, I see me Multiple by weed, divided by her second seed, whose much younger than me, but that makes three Three generations of lost hope Three bags of dope Two minutes to smoke One momment to say..."MOMMA Please" I'd rather you hit me than that pipe At least then I know you care I swear I would rather take a beating everyday, if I no longer had to smell that smell that I smelt every time I walked down the hallway... Or in her coat, or in her hair, or see that stare That glass-like stare that every other night penetrated through my soul to the point that I was no longer even standing there You know I still see my face in hers Only now it's hidden behind walls Walls bricked with low self-esteem that stem about 80-ft tall And every puff makes it harder to find momma Every hit makes it harder to climb momma She's not quite a hype yet! More like a functional abuser Only instead of a man, she let her circumstances use her So maybe I'm the loser, for not allowing her to win Or maybe I am again a victim, of a victim, created by victims of sin "AND YOU CAN'T WIN" I just wanted her to get out the game But hell since my name was given to me by her Maybe my life is destined to be the same Maybe my rhymes are meant to be slow And after I blow, they'll be quick Or maybe I was never shit Or hell maybe I'll just quit I mean after all at one point she did But back then my excuse was..."I'M THE KID" You know she never could give me hers.... But I love her And now that she's in recovery, I'm discovering That my love was all she ever needed! Momma... | ||
| Tonya "Cyniquian" Level Poster Username: Tonya Post Number: 1155 Registered: 07-2005 Rating: N/A |
That brought tears to my eyes... beautiful.... | ||
| Brotha2thanight Newbie Poster Username: Brotha2thanight Post Number: 4 Registered: 12-2005 Rating: |
Damn....... Sometimes you can see clearly things you've never really seen by closing your eyes. The picture i painted in my mind using your words...touched my soul | ||
| Young_flame1 Newbie Poster Username: Young_flame1 Post Number: 2 Registered: 12-2005 Rating: N/A |
Thank you so much for the love....Art imitidating Life, imitidating art. FYI - I wrote that poem before my mother decided to go into rehab. It is/was my testimony to/for her. It means a lot that it can touch others....b/c it is truly a piece written from my heart. She is doing extremely well. |
