I am... Progress.

Tue, 10/20/2015 - 13:47 -- tmt2798

Listen to my words.

Listen to my struggle.

I'll tell you how it goes.

I'll show you where i'm going.

We all had it different.

We all have it fair.

Blessed to have a presence.

Blessed to reappear.

Grind until we sale.

Sale just for the grind.

A hustler in spirit.

A owner in due time.

We have it all in mind.

The space for us to shine.

The rejection and decline.

The adundance of dollar signs.

We give up on the process.

Just to fall between the lines.

Until we stand strongly upon.

Until we realize our strength.


My mother said to make me think.

This is all our virtue.

From bottom to the top.

We stay moving; on the go.

Never taking the time to stop.

I thought it was my color.

We struggled cause we had.

I thought it was my Mother.

I never had a Dad.

Independence is a must.

Give me freedom from the chains.


Or we're never gonna change.

We want the money and the fame.

But do we have what it takes?

Killing our brothers and sisters.

No ones reaching destined fates.

Steady looking at our race.

But we're throwing it away.

They could have cured cancer.

They could have made a way.

I'm no politician.

I don't cast reports.

I'm just generally saying.

I'm just trying to make a point.

We could hustle on our own.

We could do it as team.


But we're dying for our dreams.

This poem is about: 
My family
My community
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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