the one who takes a beating
or the one duped to fight
the man.
But who hides on the ceiling,
ready to shine the light?
The boy has room to grow, but his
neurons have found their path
through syringes, POs, tattooed tears
and stained lips.
The man is comfortable enough, Kaiser Permanente
footing the 2 months of medical leave he took,
spending 3 weeks in VA beach
with his mistress;
she already has 2 kids and wants him 2 come home 4 her.
If Willy had more money
and some philosophy, he'd burn herb,
instead his parents kicked him on the
curb, aspiring author turned college
delinquint, turned
quintessential
emotional
stumbling block.
He's grown up a bit, running 4 McDonald's franchises
in the Atlanta metropolitan area, pulling in
a healthy 6 figures. He will be T-boned
on the way to work in the morning.
(1)
Who has told a lie while reading this?
Did you text love
to your boyfriend
while your boss is on your mind,
in your office,
on your desk,
in you?
Ever'thang ain't fo'ever'one.
And if something good came out of it,
a swimming pool, maybe? You
can learn your man to quit it with
the fuckin' questions.
(2)
If you told a lie to her,
you're lying to yourself, too.
I gotta get the door,
pizza's here.
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