Miasma
Eyes wide open…
But truly closed…
As to life in the…
Real world…
Seeing only that which…
Shine…
Shame on you…
You heard what your…
Mother said…
Your father and other…
Elders…
Yet…you see not…
An unwholesome atmosphere…
For which you run wild…
Looking …
Right at what is going wrong…
In your life…
Not even thinking twice…
It’s boy this…
Or boy that…
Not concerned with getting phat…
Mom is talking…
You are walking…
One foot out of the door…
Your other foot never reaching…
The floor…
Ear plugged to the phone…
It’s on…
Breathing back to back…
Talking on the fast track…
Boy this…
And boy that…
No worry of becoming phat…
Imagine that…
Some would like to lay claim., .
To the getting phat fame…
Mostly hood dames…
You know…
Those who come and go…
Like Satan in the bible…
Going to and fro…
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poem by whisperkwane Lamb
Added by Poetry Lover
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