After the Beep

Please don't let your phone die on me

I try not to call on you too much

But every single time that I do

I get the answering machine

Why you so far away, Heavenly Father?

Don't you see the struggle, Heavenly Father?

Don't you care, Heavenly Father?

My nigga is selling cocaine for food

Long done gave up his faith

Cause if you were really there

He wouldn't be running the corner

Streetlights shining bright

His future burnt out

Faded, floating away

High in the clouds

Don't you smell the smoke?

You probably up there getting high yourself

Blowing O's, listening to the phone


This poem is about: 
My family
My community
Guide that inspired this poem: 


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