Reflection
The few i call my brothers
Are turning into niggas
those cute little things i couldn't take my eyes off
They've all ran off
To the deprived lands
In the city of lost souls
I want to join them
How i wish i could be them
But you cant make any different by being like everyone else
Happy home! happy homes
turning into obituary grounds
For those who lost there soul
To hate....to love...to passion....to confusion
Play grounds turning into pimp grounds
Lass turning to guards
Belittling those things we stand for.....
Copyright © Prince Ekpemandu | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment