Back when I would hide behind the hood of my sweater, I read your poems like a love letter. Picture me rolling in a pair of your shoes, following your clues, while listening to your blues making the same choices you would choose. I’ve seen your visions of the future that you should have never knew. If I believed in reincarnation, I would think that i was you. Even though, they don’t really care about us and our lives may be touched, this message will live forever. I have faith in what they say will never happen because I will never say never. Oh, what I would do for love and the baby that Brenda will soon surrender; your wisdom is something I could never measure so I’ll write you this letter right before half time; there’s no break where I’m going. I realized right after I was handed my silver platter that this couldn’t be mine. Back when I used to hide behind the hood of my sweater you had me thinking that all I needed is one mic and injustice I would easily be able to fight. Although my state of mind is all the color of love Mr. Knockboots showed me that this feeling wasn’t real. Soon I became a witness to these dreams you talked about come true while staring at the world through my rear view. He was you and you are him. Faith along with fear in God is in you; I watched you transfer it to them! I know you think that God can’t hear me, but when I pray sometimes I feel it in me. As everybody shouts the chant “Get Down!” your dead now yet somehow you still live. Back when I hid behind the hood of my sweater I listened to you speak to your unborn. I know I can, be anything I desire just as long as I stay true to me, keep my mind free, and stay away from straying to a path that is all too tempting! The father figure that you were to so many, as for money you had plenty, but still you never changed your message and to the industry that may have been scary. If Nostradamus sees the future you must have seen this pen once before. I have so many questions for you and their following the scent of your lure for my weary minds cure. Let them hate me now because I watch what I’m watching! An important lesson I learned from that tag team. These poems that hold my street dreams will surely make them look at each other with love like open books. I had dreams of causing ripples in a world where mothers fed intellect.

Back when I would hide behind the hood of my sweater.

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