The (Rough Skin)

The (Rough Skin)

Genocide locks, it’s sort of shocking like tenements, homicide adrenaline, prison irrelevance, for the anger, benevolence has confusion with complacence

Typical extraterrestrial lifeforms that acts as an intermediary between celestial irrelevance and intelligence

 

It’s not a voice or a fraction, multiple radio airwaves used as distractions

Protest in Ferguson, massacre bombs in Boston

Precaution, audio voice, no slaves’ voice heard in auctions

Frequencies designed to break me down to a robotic state, my great ancestors were whipped and used as bait

 

My slave master is misleading the ideologies, of John Locke’s philosophies, of the numerous mass murder rates towards these monstrosities

Terrible transformation, isolation, years of ignorance based upon our information, black and white America, fuck the congregation, and assassinate illegal body parts stored in the colorless basement, ancient, in relations to segregation

 

According to documents, my self-esteem is too low to accept any critical aspersions, and from the outside looking in my happiness is fearful of confrontation

Intimidation versus interrogation, my money was either stolen or strayed, too priceless to see a face only known to free trade

 

Vicious cycle, public assassination, my message was pronounced dead on arrival

Constant revelation, in the backyard of domestication, to the porches and ignorance of my nation

I live in an era that’s filled with terror

To see a black walk the streets is like a crime that’s never preached

Murder rates increase, living proofs decease

I’m unchained from the shackles of a conformist society

 

Racism is still abundant and a belief that has yet to be eradicated

I’m labelled by the white man as ghetto or uneducated

Marginalized, I was always told malicious lies

I’m skeptical, my cross roads double crossed another marathon of crisis episodes

 

My eyes hurt from the tear gas thrown that was thrown into my frustration and patience

Sending out the troops to invest in investigations

The double standards that I’m living in, single parent predicaments, violence on every corner, my people are silenced as black citizens

 

I was bamboozled from all of the cries that I heard outside, my generation needs a revolution like the riots of 1965

King of Phrygia, my innocence was being tortured with whips and chains

My lines embody the mentality of forgotten slave names

I was held in captivity, I was morally and financially suppressed, I’m fucking depressed

These ideas contained, black and white differences can’t fit in this picture frame

 

I’m asking for forgiveness in my residence

Ironically, it was the pyramids that built White America’s prevalence

Is life real or really just an illusion?

Having a conversation with certainty and confusion

Let’s talk about how black youths are ostracized, let’s talk about how textbooks are vandalized, let’s talk about the street violence and suicides, or when he predicted that the revolution will not be televised

Darrell Herbert

hangtimemag

An online based literary magazine, promoting influential talented underground artists.

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