I ' m trapped between my own visions and wrapped in sorrow because I'm black. Walking barefoot on a whore stroll, chasing augmented dreams on a track. As I sit here  doing  time  searching  for  an  answer  that fits ,  I  toss  and  turn  late at night  saying  that , " tomorrow  could  be  it ." But  I  know; deep in my heart, somewhere the  strange  hands  of  a  slave  unknown  to  me, spilled  his  blood  along  the  embankment ,  so that  you  and  I  could  be  free.

Laying beneath layers of guilt on top of the comforter of my bed, holding on to my last breath as if I was already pronounced dead. I often find myself sleeping in a make believe ending of a fairy tale. Stepping over homeless people, empty crack pipes, and the mental fragment of lies we tell. Some nights I feel as though I'm falling and I can't seem to catch my grip and other days I wake up frowning to find myself floating in some alleyway stiff.

I'm at the end of  my  rope  and  I 'm  sick  and  tired  of  waiting  for  help . So despite  the odds are  stacked  so  heavily  against  me,  I 've  got  to  play  the cards I 've been  dealt . When  given  a  choice,  I  found  myself  on  the  wrong  side  of the  fence,  so  some  of  you  would  probably  say  that  I have  fallen by  the way-side ,but I’m not entirely convinced.

You see, I was once  told  growing  up  as  a  child  that  a  Black man  will  never be truly free .  For that reason, I  prayed  twice  every  night , before  my  face would hit  the comforter  of  my  sheets .  I  often  felt  lost  in  a  paradigm  of  foolish pride  and  regrets, only to be  awaken  from  those bad  dreams  holding  a  knife to my neck. Yesterday I found a tear on the side of my face.  It's  a  sign  that other fear,  but I've  grown  to  embrace .  Is it anxiety or careless lies which bind a man to the tree? And if chains become my guide, will I grow to learn, in spite of me? Surely the apathy of weakness knows no man of shaken faith.  So  be  cautious  of  what you  find  and  keep your  both  eyes  on a snake

My destination is weary, leading me on a path to repent.  So I'm sitting here consuming the news, trying desperately to account for where the time went. What is  left  if  I  subtract  the  fact  that  I 'm  already  dead?  Wondering through empty fields of concepts as my sanity hangs by a tread.  I 'm holding  on  to  the  edge  of the  cliff,  in  spite  of the screams  and stormy weather. Waiting for my consciousness to lose its grip, which hold everything I’ve ever owned together. Even if I whether the storm, after years of falling rain. I can't keep sitting here getting high, expecting my conditions to change.

Tormented  by  bad  dreams  that constantly whisper  in my  ear , paranoid by  the  things  that  out  of  nowhere  seem  to  just  suddenly  appear . Where ever  the  wind  blows,  I flow  in  search  of  something  missing  and  despite the  clouds  that  dissipate, the eye of the storm  keeps  right  on  twisting . My  memory  bank  is running low and I 'm  all out  of  opinions  to defend . So I keep my eyes on every door, waiting for a stranger to come in.

I 've witness  humans  feeding  on  flesh  and  Ordain Ministers  who  turned  out  to be  fakes.  So I peddle backwards, while maintaining a visual on the windows, until I can find some suitable exit to escape.      

        No matter what mirror I stare in, I see the same old fate, because the point of my existence ultimately depends on a certain time in space. Can you imagine having to wake up to roach infested sheets? Then having to step over comma toss people on the playground because of the tracks in their feet?

        Where turf wars and intravenous drug abuse are common place and every young boy’s death on the 6 o’clock is a snap shot of your child's face. We have adopted this abandoned lifestyle left in front of our door steps. As the WE SHALL OVERCOME anthem stands over in a corner and humor itself

Living in a world where uncertainty is the savior I fear and the hopes of the day after tomorrow may never get here.