Here sits our priest
Praying to the Gods...

An all too familiar sound
Is heard in the distance...

We real dope. We
ditch and smoke. We...

I
A beautiful spring day outside...

I am such
A miraculous fruit...

A perfect angel on the out side
But you donât know me...

Poetry is many things
To many faces...

Twisted faces hide behind shadows
Showing the darkness of lives past...

She closes her eyes
and begins to cry...

I am from resenting the past
of drugs, sex, and violence...

All the stuff we used to do
is gone...

You act like i no longer exist
im dead to you...