Monroe Dispatch - No Struggle, No Progress

inspired By God

Like Bob Marley smoking a spliff, I needed a lift, so I

inhaled what I saw

Inside my hood, so I thought I would, exhale through this

poem and draw.

A picture for you, to give you a view, of a twisted way of life

That is lived every day, while on my knees I pray, we try to make it right.

Now, over there on that block, you will see dudes who are not,

hanging out with Mr. Coopa

They find shade under trees, and shoot more than the breeze, they're figuring out ways to do ya.

Some harm, so don't be alarmed, because if they don't do then they will die

They've been manipulated by the system, and you will become a victim, when these

thugs begin to cry.

The tears, they spill, don't stream down their faces like a bride that is drowning in love

They leak from from bullet wounds, afflicted by crooked goons, that cry by shedding blood.

The clothes they wear, might cause you to stare, because they look 10 sizes too big

But, if you look a little closer, you will see the weight on their shoulders, they've been carrying since they were kids.

Their music is loud, their words are vile, and more venomous than a snake

Nothing is worse, than to be cursed, by

"THE CHANGE THAT WE DIDN'T MAKE"