She wore a messenger bag,
With nothing in her bag but hope….
Nothing in her heart but love.
Disillusioned with life….
And still every morning she choose to rise.
Hand to mouth with the Lord.
Begging for a new perspective.
Scared that she will trail off into no mans land…..
The type you see under the bridge.
You know those who have given up the ghost.
The holy spirit who guides us into sanity and the Lord of Lords…..
She wears a hat because she’s cool, trying to fit in a world who disregards her every effort it makes her a girl!
She hides in her words because all she’s been told by her educators is that she can write.
Unique is what one said, different from the world.
She leaves traces of her ancestors…you know……the rappers who built her up.
The Hiphop that overcame poverty by speaking out.
See we live in a world where we lie with each other, intimacy is worthless.
We hope that time moves but it seems endless.
A world where we use material things for badges.
Foreign things we can’t pronounce.
See I live in the innercity where food is scarce because of our self indulgence. Whether sex, money or good cuisine.
You see us busting ourselves to earn the same things out in the world.
Yet she’s patient waiting just to taste it.
Freedom is what she yearns for and she would make it.
Atleast from the darkness she dove into, embraced it.
I had it in my hand but due to a trance from an unknown man I swam but the current got to me.
I faced it, bring me out this hole. Please I can’t take it!
Lord I pray tonight for her.
To rise above her obstacles.
The strong hold got her like a roaring lion. That seeks to devour its prey.
But I know another Lion the one from the tribe of Judah.
Him I call triumphant.
Because theres no company like his trust me I know.
In the solitude of my despair.
I yell…..to the mountains.
Deliver me oh Lord from my inner forces, that expect me to degrade the very thing you’ve built.
You and I are one there’s no one else holding my hand.
When the mosquitoes use to bite me you would send a breeze that would soothe me.
Then drift off to sleep.
Like the days of the coach where you would fill my wildest dreams.
….Leaving me to dream I surely was the choosen one.
Overcompensating for my lack thereoff……
So she picked up her messenger bag and imparted empathy. To the people who are just like her.
He begs to refrain from your impulses…..develop an intelect that will produce creativity.
Then I ask myself how will I win.
Forget to win, for the souls are mine to keep. A crown I promise but not of a queen…
A princess you are a princess queen you will always be…..
Forget the world just follow me.
What have I shown you. That they spat in your face, they throw their bones at you.
For the risen phoenix just like my mother said will for ever be a fantasy.
Babygirl wake up, you’re in your head.