My mother committed a felony
calling me Tyrone
My father’s customs how can I forget
when five wives he had
He spoke when to the mountain
I refused to go
Today the tree of my identity grows
but its soul remains cold, lost, and broke
Tear these useless lungs of mine away
from chain smoking send my spirits back
to cave dwelling I wish not
to be catholic anymore
The battle in my brain gives in
to the gods of bones them sinners
that worship ancestors not allowed
anywhere near cathedrals, evil
to his highness the pope
My nostrils weren’t meant
for this dope break my nose
Trace by it the scattered remains
of my hopes, I’m a deep thinker
my thoughts are the clay in my brains
that me mold
By your mirror is only darkness shows
my face does not, take it back -
Take it back and release
my grandfather’s cattle from your hold
your words I hear there’s no need
to scold I’m a deep thinker that feels
how such empty miseducated portraits
yearn for newly educated souls
Burn down Tyrone’s tree of identity
the day my eyes close, in search
of home, in search
of my spilt hopes
scattered, as pebbles
of stone