Best Statistic Poems
You look at me,
And think you see
Another stereotypical teen
Who drinks, gets high,
And tries to make life easy,
But you're wrong.
That’s not me.
I refuse to let the world take over and control my mind,
And I refuse to do the drugs that kick me from behind.
I’m not going to ruin my life with friends that teach me wrong.
When they start drinking I wont go along.
I’ve seen what its done, and how it’s changed the people around me
And I’ve decided that's someone I don’t want to be.
I want to have a family and a life full of prosperity.
I want my children to grow up and have a life of variety.
So to keep from all this confusion and have a dream that is realistic
I wont take the drugs or drink alcohol
And avoid being another stupid statistic.
I will not be another black statistic
Selling ny body to get money for clothes
Going around being preppy when everyone knows
Doing my best so I don't get called a hoe
In this life I'm living there's no joke
Trying to be beautiful when the world puts you down
Killing myself inside without making a sound
Pushing away the love ones all around
No I will not be a part of that crowd
Using weed and drugs to solve all my problems
Blaming God because he had a better plan
Being angry at myself because I had another chance
Hating life because I'm still in it's dance
Constantly being abused because of my female pride
Waking up every morning praying to die
Putting a smile on while I'm crying and shouting inside
Looking at them and asking why
Yes I refuse to be that black statistic
I plan to be great
President of the state
Learn how to bake
Having a clean slate
reping God to the fullest
being a Christien is the truest
with God I won't go balistic
Yes I'll be that kind of statistic
Form:
This may seem pessimistic,
But honestly I’m a statistic,
Craving only the face of tomorrow,
Without the inclusion of this sorrow.
I would rather be a statistic!
My little girl is my world, my star and my universe
distant from the unbearable quasar which is her mother
I cannot describe her while maintaining homeostasis or my positive energy
Vulgar clouds are storms
My terminology is so derogatory without intent
See I was made of sand
Almost every grain of me poured through her hands that which I am
A man holding an idea, a wish called love
We are two schizophrenics
I indulge in internal conversations and she locks herself in a state of paranoia and alarm
which dissolves my dreams
It is not right
I would rather be a statistic
Put me in a category!
All you know are bits and pieces of my gory story
On the cliff of an edge holding on to together
Call me fool, naive, young for investing in forever
Till the emotional bank told me insufficient funds, I tried to hustle cause I needed just one
more one
From heaven he says, "Money cannot fix it son."
I asked god, "How come? It is true where I'm from."
As a child, I grew up... believing that if a man worked hard enough he could change his
situation. I never wanted all the stuff
I had it rough and statistically predictably it interest me that I have to be unhappily faking in
this society.
Call me statistic, baby daddy, but never rogue father
It still will not faze me. I am here for my daughter
Form:
I was born, PLUS ONE.
I am a girl, PLUS ONE.
I am Asian Indian, PLUS ONE.
I was an Orphan, PLUS ONE.
I have Polio, PLUS ONE.
I wear a Leg Brace, PLUS ONE.
I was Adopted, PLUS ONE.
I Inherited an American Family, PLUS ONE.
I Lived on an American Farm, PLUS ONE.
I became an American Citizen, PLUS ONE.
I became Educated, PLUS ONE.
I attended College, PLUS ONE.
I wore Reading Glasses, PLUS ONE.
I Loved, PLUS ONE.
I Married, PLUS ONE.
I Divorced, PLUS ONE.
I Lost Love, PLUS ONE.
I had a Herniated Disc, PLUS ONE.
I had Corrective Surgery, PLUS ONE.
I wore a Back Brace, PLUS ONE.
I Lived in Las Vegas, PLUS ONE.
I was Unemployed, PLUS ONE.
I am Unemployed, PLUS ONE.
I Receive Governmental Assistance, PLUS ONE.
I was a Housewife, PLUS ONE.
I am Still a Housewife, PLUS ONE.
I had a Cat, PLUS ONE.
I Love Dogs, PLUS ONE.
I have Owned Three Dogs, PLUS ONE.
I am involved in Physical Therapy, PLUS ONE.
I wish to be a Writer, PLUS ONE.
I am an American, PLUS ONE.
I am not Religious, PLUS ONE.
I Vote, PLUS ONE.
I, I, & I.
WE ARE BORN, WE BECOME A STATISTIC.
WE LIVE, WE BECOME A STATISTIC.
WE DIE, WE REMAIN A STATISTIC.
Form:
A Statistic
Sometimes I feel tired of being in my own skin....feeling overwhelmed with sin that’s not my own...sorrow overbearing with thoughts of black teenagers that will never be grown...men, and woman dying as children...because they were shot by cops that are the same color of my skin....so now I am another statistic...reason being...is from what I’m seeing...my skin is seen with privilege...because I’m not black I lack the same disrespect from cops that Tyrone might get...and yet I feel tired of being in my own skin...feeling responsible for the many wrongful deaths....in all depths...from wanted to be a cop...wearing a badge of a cop...to holding the gun of a cop...when will it stop...the motto is “him or me”....them or we...shoot to kill...not disable...because you leave him or her able to come back the next day to bring more to the table....apprehending is now becoming a fable...or turned into one...it’s easier to do damage with a taser or take a life solving problems permanently with a gun...than it is to disable make unable to run...no lesson to learn from...I might be white as so that’s the color they call my skin...but I’m from the same east New York Brooklyn city line shopping neighborhood black kids grew up in...as I grow older I grow colder to what police officers are trained to do...”Shoot to kill...not disable to make unable...to come back the next day to bring more to the table”.....as much as I would refuse to be a bullet ballistic...I am just like everyone else who is the color of my skin A statistic...
If you are ever feeling down
know that love can always be found
and there is help just look around
don't ever give up
try not to live up
to the statistics
peers are your own worst critics
put down the gun
there is no reason none
none at all
so if you see a friend in need answer that call
I know people think its cool to hurt another person
when it is really themselves they are hurtin
shadowed to this life by a curtain
who to blame the one raising the kids
or is it a whole other list
lets not talk about grown ups
that are grown sluts
that will just f*** not know your name life and such
that is why when it is life you try to f*** it doesn't mean much
but you got to hold on in life its like a bronco don't get bucked. -TA
Here I brought you a few things
I thought they'd come in handy
expectin a present, not quite
no cards or chocolate candy.
I brought you a bottle of listerine
since you doin all that spittin
nothin but toxins comin out
maybe your tongue,
you should have bitten.
Toilet paper to clean up
all that sh** you talkin
watch yourself, don't trip now
better watch where you walkin.
You think cuz I'm a girl,
I'm Incapable of rappin to your standards
but I run the show, like The Simpsons
you just liven with The Flanders.
So remember in these battles
better not discriminate
even though I'm female,
competition I eliminate.
So here I go again
going off so prolific,
think your number one
your just a google statistic.
I'm somebody I don't want to be
Sick in the mind
Is how trusted ones have nurtured me
Sweet and naive
What a bad combination
Torn to shreds and built up
Into a new creation
Sometimes I sleep
And don't dream
But have flashbacks
And see pictures with bad means
"Get this out of my head
Its driving me mad!"
But who do I tell this to
I don't want to relive
What I didn't want to go through
I cry
But what does this do
I want to know the soulless
Who've affected me hurt, too
I don't care about their presents, futures, or pasts
The thought of my welfare on their minds was last
I only hope that in the future
I'll avoid another life altering calamity
With man
So you feel, like a miscarriage
a miracle of statistic, boxed away and sealed
Where love-lost is a permanent condition
Faith a contra-septive thats declining with permission
And you kneel, and you kneel
And you feel, all that you portray
is a poetic world-view, that turned to ash and blew away
Where only your acting pierces their hearts
and you'd rather die before playing your part
So you fall, like a martyr
Blinking through paradise, Tightrope above all
A broken of a deviant in the clothing of a fiend
Blackboards miscalculation, never to be cleaned
And you crawl and you crawl
And you fall, cold, on bleeding knees
searching the rejected, rotted and diseased
Returning empty and scraped down to the bone
finding angels, breaking down, whats left of what you own
So you crawl, through the living-dead
As a monster of humanity, who'll murder for the remedy
Collecting every beat of every heart
Of those, who made you, fall...
apart.
I'm lost in the world
I've become another
STATISTIC
We were together
Things were supposed to be better
Now your gone
All alone
Look at what happened
My parents always knew
But I tried to prove
That my life would be great
Instead
I just made a mistake
Trying to make sense of it
I can't
I'm just stuck in this
Mixed feelings
Proud mother
Never take that away
STATISTIC
Is all I hear
STATISTIC
Is what I feared
STATISTIC
I am not
STATISTIC
I can't be
Close my eyes
Hope to snap out of it
But it is not a dream
Wake up!!!
Crying is all I hear
Dealing with it
I rather be known
As a GREAT MOM
NOW
I feel like another
STATISTIC
A survey put to a gambling mix,
posed questions on gambling tricks.
It states from the outset,
with Russian roulette,
that it’s safe, claimed by five out of six.
My rock is gone
With hopes and dreams
Leaving me here
Life splitting at the seams.
He gave me words of love
And showed actions of hate
Restored to me my life
Made me think we were fate.
An argument here
A harsh word there
But always returning
With his previous love and care.
Now I'm free of him
And try not to go ballistic
But if my life stays the same
I think I'll become the next statistic.
Looks like people are ignoring
Physical distancing in crowds
In St. John’s Newfoundland as seen
By new photo evidence
In night club dancing and street groups.
Soon, proof that Covid-19 can
Travel in the air we breathe from
Coughs, sneezes and close contacts
Will be made real by WHO.
Keep using masks, washing hands, no
Matter how silly it does look…
It could save your life and more.
Don’t go nuts and booze and laugh your
Nights away with your partying.
Keep social distancing before
You end up a statistic.
W.C.Hull © 2020-6-7-H1470-2580-
I52-K52-48-L59-20
W.C.Hull © 2020-6-7-WCH-2-13
I didn't contract it
But i died from it