Born and Bred



Goshen ghettofied,
born and bred
Yeah, I’m the teen darkie
with the big nose
and the nappy head
Rolling with my homies
on an asphalt bounce,
with the music on blast
Yeah, we’re the young darkies
with the big lips ...
American society outcasts
As ministers of menace, we preach
dem chickens gon come back one day at last,
and lay some righteous eggs from the past
We’ve been called: Wall Street squatters
and ivory house doubters
We’ve been caged 
disproportionately and dispassionately
When they feel our riot rage,
only then do they 
ever wanna truly civilly engage
When they feel the anger heat,
only then do they
nervously open the door of the cage
Skid marks on our backs ... 
concrete jungle death-trap metal violence burn
Skid rows across the tracks ... 
poverty check delivered on a low-income tax return
America’s always bragging about 
how they benevolently set their beloved slaves free
But from this darkie’s point of view,
the invisible chains of racism ain’t never been off me
That’s what these monkey big eyes see
Gorilla glue truth is super strong sticky
My peeps and me, like I said:
We’re born and bred,
Goshen ghettofied
Gospel truth be told: It’s commonly believed,
and the ghetto pain never lied — 
on the day we were inner-city born,
the certificate said it was the day we died
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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Teagan Avatar
October 27, 2017 at 4:46 PM
This makes me sad :( Powerful write, Freddie. Hugs
Pandit Avatar
October 27, 2017 at 9:28 AM
Such a sad last line--you depict reality--I feel the pain in your poem--written with a lot of passion as always!
Pigeon Tart Avatar
October 27, 2017 at 9:16 AM
An intense pen my friend. Eloquent slam dunk. xomo much love Freddie <3
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