Not Making Proud Choices


This poem is dedicated to any one who's ever lost their lover to the grave

or to a jail cell.

They might be, in the streets or in the studio making beats but

We hold 'em down because it seems they mean well.

It seems well,

Neither one of us can ararnge or adjust the definition of love,

so we just roll up.

No condoms, no gloves

That's just how we show trust.

I gladly run the risk of creating a child 

I know I can't afford to bring up...

Cause! Will the love between us two ever really be enough?

Love myself first, I know I know

but. All that India Arie swagg is just for show...

I mean I do!

But when I lay in my sheets at night,

it seems my bed was made for two.

See, it's a lot of things I wanna get through to you

But I'm just scared of what you'd do, if you knew...

Plus the Henn is already blessed so I just sip until I'm chopped and screwed.

Nine months later and I can't find you,

where are you??

I called your mama, called your cousins hit the trap

and not a trace...

Damn! I never thought you'd be the one that I would have to chase.

Could I have chose another path to take?

Could you have chose another heart to break?

Another optimistic future to erase?

I admitt I knew better,

It was a mistake.


I guess that's just the chances people take,

I mean, the choices people make...

I hope my child don't do the same.


Need to talk?

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