[Fleetwood Jack is our featured poet. He is from Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn and he is very angry. (Why, we have no idea!) His poem, Scared Muthaf#$ka moved us to tears so without further ado...]
Scared muthaf#$ka…?
Afraid to turn that corner? Scared of what you might find,
Nestled behind
That rock?
A lint ball, a sock?
Or is it the other side of your personality begging you to be free?
Chicken shit, misguided fool…
Refuse to try something new,
Opposite your point-of-view?
What is it w/ you?
Is what you might hear
Not RAP to your ears?
Inundated w/ your own ethnic prejudice, basking in the glow of your own while critiquing others?
What are your druthers?
Phobic to a higher level? Another flow that might put you in the know?
Or, are you stuck in your own private hell?
Hooked on the smell of blow…
Did you know?
There is another world revolving around your own or is your head gasket blown?
Should I feel sorry for you?
Or, are you just sorry enough? Should I challenge you or will you call my bluff?
Basking in the glow of limitations,
Ignorant of the know of imitations makes your life a fraud, and a non-believer in the Lord.
Wandering thru w/ no fan base,
All hung up on your race…(ism)
Free flowing in the abyss of Vertigo, trapped in a time warp of the unknown.
Are you scared, muthaf&$ka?
Afraid of what could be, as you believe in your own reality?
Keeping it real is making you fake… sad ass mindset is taking you to the hole, for God’s sake.
Mental breakdown has you “self-checked!”
Yeah, right…this ain’t no game, and yet you still play…
Last time I checked your icons were fallin’ down,
Putting your pagan ass in Purgatory.
Better wake up my Brotha
The OG role models are rollin’ back in style.
Another decade gone by and you’re back to the future.
My manhood’s “back in the cradle” and “your boy looks just like me…” by association.
Another passing of responsibility?
SCARED MUTHAF#$KA…!
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