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Untitled
George Coles-EL
No one understands us. Some parents didn't plan us.
While X-rays scan us, no stereotype can stamp us.
The media only comes to the concrete jungle
when death pays a visit or when thoughts cause trouble.
So the news is all over our city walls
Because editors read our plight and delete it all.
Not a chance we can Just Say No...
Rhymes through mic lines cover the globe.
Disregard for us got crew flashing like strobe
When fires expire places where flowers grow.
I hear Griots rock mics over the Boom Bap
Where intruders get standing ovation gunclaps.
Armadas of Safe-Havens got demolished
By Ray-Guns fired in the days of Reaganomincs
While children on concrete jungle gyms learn Ebonics.
And crack and heroin outsell medicinal hydroponics.
Our lives are peppered with trickery and deceit.
So we have no choice but to turn to the streets.
But where is it safe for us to meet?
Every corner is patrolled by ignorant police
I read the headlines on the billboard's advertising
Through so much smog, it's like a black sun rising.
Ignore us at your peril. We swim society's ocean
with folklore rhymes and spraycan motions.
Art can unite the world given the chance
whether it's Painting, Music, Poetic Lyrics or Dance.
My opus goes out to the Disenfranchised Homeless,
The marginalized and out of focus, but never hopeless.
I see the sails of the Ghost Ship fleet again,
Canvas hit end-to-end fat with creativity wind.
Rest in Peace, Rave in Paradise, Rise in Power. Understand it!
Though life is hard as granite, don't take it for granted...
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