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Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
The laws of the game the laws of the 
streets the sheer lodgic of being driven 
to the point of no return wearing wires 
pregnant buying weapons and drugs 
from corrupt junk sick officers you hear 
the sound ticking your heart races feet 
pacing to end it all the image a 44 magnum 
in your mouth anger confusion shame of 

being a rat a snitch worthless to all the 
people you have ever known because you 
were never really who you were because 
you were undercover collecting information 
an informant simply because the fbi warned 
me that I witnessed something I shouldn't 
have an 9 person's perished in a fire now 
my children and I were in grave danger the 

only protection was going undercover 
operation African Americans officers 
selling drugs for thee arsonist emotions 
distant I am breathing holding my breath 
why should I allow these killers to end my 
life when I can do it myself questions I ask 
my therapist how can I live in a world 
knowing so many people crave my death 

these are killers with badges and guns 
working security for gang leaders I panic 
I shake I pant anxiety disorder unable to 
be in crowded places elevators fearful 
panic attacks severe ptsd doctors are 
kind support available an yet I awakened 
to devastation hearing my fetus heartbeat 
pounding forced to look through an assault 

rifle placed eyes waters in my view 
special agent Paula brand at the light 
busy first day of school blessing my children 
were in the backseat with special agent 
Leroy Heimbach singing my girl while 
junk sick officers pace the floor afraid 
of losing their badges afraid of me my 
small timid pregnant body wrapped in 

wires the sound of fear the smell of 
fear my throat closes up who am I 
here in America I'm a confidential human 
source hated like any other rodent pest 
in a maze tormented toyed with finally 
the feeling of going through the artificial 
grass white coats examining your mind 
preparing you to be exterminated after 

the initial testing procedure process is 
performed you don't feel human the fetus 
inside you is loud creating commotion 
startling your every moment alerting the 
killers the wires itch you don't feel human 
at this point how can you this us a mental 
abortion you are a lab rat carrying an 
American litter a living breathing abortion 

a cure for organized crime corruption 
you are now fed fear envy denial medication 
quiets the heart beats as I envision myself 
deceased again calm no more panic attacks 
no more attempts on my life no more 
terrorists threats from my identity theif Hyundai 
Jay Townsend Johnson Henry her gunman 
arriving to e d my life  over my American poetry 

I remain within my calm place in view my 
breathing returns my chest hurts I hear 
voices say stay focused on the here and 
now come on back agent brown you are 
not alone come on back home you are safe
God bless the federal bureau of investigation 
and God bless the United States of America
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