The Real Me

N***** you don’t know me
all you know me for is carrying them glocks
And emptying my clip
but you don’t know
I want to become an architect
all’s you remember
Is that summer day when I
Introduced you to the street life
Huh but you don’t remember
I told you to get a scholarship
Instead of money man don’t judge me
until you know the real me

I know why you think carryin’ a glock
Is the real me because I been locked
And that’s all you know about me
But remember the times I was
Gone.
I was taking courses to
Become an architect
so instead of building a gun
I could build a house
for the fam
It’s time to put the gun down
and pick the pen up
and empower myself

Tagged with

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

The poets featured here are currently incarcerated, and many of them are in federal prisons far from home. Your feedback is a valuable source of motivation and connection to the outside community. Post your comments, feedback, and encouragement in the space below the poem. Messages will be passed on directly to the author. Comments may not appear immediately on the site, as our team processes them to mail to the poets.