Metrical Rhyme

Circumstance by Angela Brown

 

Why am I a product of circumstance?

I’m not red, yellow or brown!

I for being dark has no grounds.

When people see me they think I’m stupid,

Because they see me as being different.

I live in a world using biased names

Calling me winch, baboon and Miss Thang

Heifer, cow and stiff,

Mongrel, roach and think I’m a bitch.

 

I feel I am a product of circumstance!

I have no control over what is said

In a word divided by words mislead.

I feel that no lives matter

When people judge me by a color.

Confused by the state of life I live in

A word where women are misrepresented.

A women is worth more and she demands some respect.

She should not be a victim of circumstance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the Mix by Angela Brown

 

It’s going down, I’m throwing down;

I’m coming fast, feeling hard, for what it’s worth;

I’m talking trash, moving left to right back at your ass;

I don’t procrastinate, words fascinate you as words flow.

 

I’m fresh, I digress, I express!

Liken it, killing it, expelling skills, analyze this –

Liven against ills, I dispel words I spill;

I’m hitting it, missing it, ditching it.

 

Lyrically in admission, in detention, in attention,

I’m not confessing, it’s my profession, words of expression,

Words so fresh, I express with fines, killing this,

Holding it down, expelling with sound, blowing words loud.

 

I spit out rhymes, I’m so fly, and I don’t lie

The words I spit, is killing it, making hits!

Records are spinning, words are spilling, and dice are spinning,

As I’m progressing, I’m not digressing, I’m assessing.

 

I’m out

 

 

 

 

 

Born In the USA by Angela K Brown

There are biases within race and culture
we are blinded by looks and divided by stature.
 

To live in any place is not safe on the streets
we are always competing with special needs.

In my culture we represent one color
we come from many breeds of power.
 

We speak different dialects of English
language is what defines us on the streets.

We are Americano, Black Indians and Africanas
we are islanders, Latinos and Japananos.
 

Because we are different, we are not treated the same
defining a common ground so we tend to stray.

Coming from different backgrounds is a problem
as we argue and fight in a music album.
 

Our cultural environment is how we represent
it is what defines us in how we exist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741