it aint easy..especially when everyone has a story to tell..
everyone speaks nd no one listens..
mothers and grandmothers have to constantly yell..
no fathers nor grandfathers..
i do not dare to speak as if i have a brain...
i do not dare to dress diffrent frm others...
kummin frm wher im frm....
everyone needs an escape... rapping, bouncing a ball, or throwing one..
i knt do any of em...im trapped, lost
untill i found my pen.. nd my book
may never make sense...
but without it..
i couldnt tell u wher i wher im frm
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