Can't have my son
No you can't have my son.
He is very rare,
the streets, and the jails
look somewhere eles!
You want to take him
but not while I have breath.
My little black boy you've already gave a name:
Thug, ganster,and so many more
because his skin is dark
and his hair is nappy,
the fact he didn't grow
up with a pappy!
You judge him because
he lives in the hood;
occasionally wears a hood.
NO!
The streets will not consume him
I am a mother
who believes in prayer!
The police will not haress
for I will fight for him to his death.
He is in the Master's care!
Devel mess with him
if you dare.
This poem is about:
My family