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On Second Thought
Pants hanging down…
Not because of H. Rap. Brown…
But of an inner frown…
I drown…
I should be leader…
Not a clown…
It's not the color of my skin…
That holds me back…
But those pants hanging pass my crack…
I can't seem to get my composure…Back…
Yakkdy-yak Yakked-yak talking slick…
And grandma don't go for that…
I'm thinking the grass is greener on the other-side….
Because on this side my pride and respect I hide…
Fad's are my only ride…
With them I do glide…
You name'em…I claim'em…
On Second Thought…
Who am I really…
Pants hanging, talking silly…
Struck on the (willie lynch theory) …
I not of the (Dublin O'leary's) …
Just part of the round table series…
Not a new kid on the block…
(my friends) … passing out g locks)
My rights and wrong I just won't stop…
In the hood their killing cops…
Junkies gathering in flocks…
On Second Thought…
Maybe all this is TRUE…
poem
by
whisperkwane Lamb
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