As I stare out my window blowing on this poison that goes through our lungs

I realize the hood is like a game of chest .

Which move you make tells you where you stand , where you trying to go.

I describe hood as Hustle , Opportunity, Overcome , Decisions.

but to the white men, where nothing.

Trying to prove to the world we're something.

Trying to make it out of the world that feels cold

Not depending on people when your pride bold.

Determination is the key.

The strength of humbleness.

The road to success.

It's not the split in my dress , It's the mind of a black women living in the world of a white man.

  • Author: Cooley (Offline Offline)
  • Published: December 11th, 2017 08:14
  • Comment from author about the poem: Believe.
  • Category: Unclassified
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