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Marcus Andrews Poem
A Man
Now that im older I catch myself reflecting on the things I do, my father use to do when he’s stressing; once he bit his lip and his eyes twitched,then you were in shit, I saw him shoot the phone out of my moms hand over some gossiping shit,sank a paint brush in his nephew head for asking to have sex in my bed. He shot my uncle in his ass, then brought his way out the bid. He couldn’t sleep at night, he had insomnia from his younger years in drama. He showed me how to be a man despite he use to hit on my momma. He was the only father I knew or wanted to know. I wasn’t even a seed that he planted but he nurtured to grow. He told me “Son it’s a thin line between a friend and a foe and never hold court in the streets if you really aint ready to blow”, “always put your family first; numero uno; cause when worse come to worse they gonna carry your casket, bare your burdens because Marcus only death is certain,” Maybe that’s why I hit the block so hard and always shot first, because I was scared to get scarred and Imma play the hand that they dealt me dad down to its last card. Why does it seem harder to bring forth life then it is to take it? But I got faith like the rappers Jada and Styles that im gonna make it! And I know that I got a temper but I got it from you I use to steal your cigarettes hoping that smoking would make me more like you. But the difference between a boy and a man is his morals and principals its not what you do but how its done that makes a difference. Like its not what you say but how its said that’ll make people listen. See a fulfilled life is when you die and the whole world know you missing. I know it hurt you to your heart that I spent so much of my life in prison, my mistakes, my faults, had nothing to do with you. You and my mom did more than your job; yall didn’t force me to rob. But the streets was my soul and it pump the block through my heart. But I guess destiny had a plan in the help of shaping a man and from Attica to Clinton chose to give destiny a helping hand……Here I am: A man!
Copyright © Marcus Andrews | Year Posted 2015
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Marcus Andrews Poem
Dear Mr. Barack Obama;
Im not writing this for any political drama I just want to remind you of a word called Karma and how right could never wrong nobody. I know you don’t know me but I am the voice of a city that’s dying, I’m the tear of a mother that’s crying “Somebody save us!” and unemployment is just a word around here and education is only found in suburbs around here. Why in a city of a quarter million, 25 is also in the range of the age they livin? Over coke deals, blood spills, heart peels. Please hear my city moans as I walk through their tears. Broken windows reflects souls that are not here anymore, the cold heart of a mother who can’t feel no more, my homie came home yesterday and isn’t here no more. I know it’s a war over seas but its also one outside my front door. I just want my son to be safe on his front porch. An a A.K. is a Russian gun why is it killing kids in my hood? I know you cant change all these wrongs overnight and im not asking you to change all these wrongs over night; I just want you to sleep on these wrongs over night.to see how long your before your soul shake your heart to make them right.
I take a look at Ferguson and shed a tear for their plight, wondering if the verdict would’ve been the same if Micheal Brown was white.What about a matching verdict in New York where Mr Gardner screamed “ I cant’t breathe” Even with a live video feed still the officer goes free, but its to you that we look for hope, as you can see, we voted for change. Right now we need you on the front line directing our pain. The first black Presisdent in the white house that’s just apart of doctore kings dream come true, now its completely up to you to see the dream through…..Dear Barack Obama
Copyright © Marcus Andrews | Year Posted 2015
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Marcus Andrews Poem
What's more important; the broken window or fixing it? Life itself or living it? A man without a dream is a dead one and a man with many needs to choose one. Does ecstasy lye within the mind or the body? Is it something that only thinkers can achieve?, or is it the chemistry of a people who share the same hopes and dreams.
Is love something that changes with the seasons? In the winter its sleep and in spring it rises? In the summer it gets weak and by fall it dies? Is heaven really a place? Naw; im not ready to die but I am curious to know. Does it rain sleet and hail? and are the streets really paved in gold? Does the lonely heart get healed? Do the ones with empty souls at last be filled? Does the broken heart finally meet its companion? Do the man with idle feet for once knows where he is standing?
Well now that the day is over and my sun now lights the west and tomorrow will bring more questions for the answer sheet of life's test
What in life isn't a test? and who really decides if we pass or fail?
Copyright © Marcus Andrews | Year Posted 2015
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