Four Brings Danger

​You four are disgusting. 

Making our generation look worse than what it is. 

Kidnapping a disabled human being who was “Your Friend”. 

How could you? 

Always making live videos for attention. 

You thought this one was going to bring fame. 

It actually brought you hate. 

You are just as bad as the “Trump” supporters. 

You are starting to act like one of the rednecks. 

Talking about “Gang shit”…

You might as well be apart of the KKK. 

Kidnapping white folks who done nothing wrong to you. 

That is exactly what the Ku Klux Klan does to black folks. 

Your face is all over the news paper. 

As soon as they drop a paper, I see you. 

Just like Trump. 

You four bring danger to good people. 

He did nothing wrong but, speak his opinions. 

This is not Trump fault, you all brought this upon your self. 

Just like how you all speak your opinions on a live video. 

Constantly telling others to listen to your music on SoundCloud. 

Can’t even talk properly. 

Smoking around your kids. 

You all look high as a kite. 

Bet, you won’t smoke another blunt in your life. 

Bet, you wont get drunk another day in your life. 

You about skinny as a toothpick and your friend is too. 

It is not only white people who are mad at you, it is black people to. 

You all make me sick.

This is why I choose my friends wisely. 

I barely have one that I hang around constantly. 

You all deserve life in prison. 

Matter fact, you four need to rot and crush like rocks. 

Four gang members brings danger. 

No matter what color you are. 

Your surroundings matter. 

If you are under bad influence they will easily persuade you.   

Time To Change

​This is the time to think about what is important. 

Not the time to fight and bicker. 

This is the time to listen. 

Not the time to ignore others. 

This is the time to forgive.

Not the time to hold grudges. 

This is the time to better our surroundings. 

Not the time to lower them.

Time is ticking. 

Every one has a clock that is moving. 

Moving way too fast like a rocket. 

God is saying, its time to go now? 

No more playing games. 

He is calling us to him. 

Politics turned into entertainment. 

Jobs turned into being lazy. 

School turned into a showcase. 

Social media turned into the negative news site. 

This is the time to be serious. 

Serious with your actions. 

Serious with your words. 

This is the time to start telling the truth. 

Not the time for games and lies. 

Death is knocking at our door constantly. 

Knock, Knock. 

You are next. 

Next in line for another RIP sign. 

Life is not something you play with. 

Life is not a game of chess. 

Life is happening at this very moment. 

Life is not something you can throw away. 

We cherish “Material Things” but, never our life. 

Nothing lasts forever. 

You can say Always & Forever but, that does not mean FOREVER. 

God is the only one who can give us eternal life. 

This is the time to let that bitterness flee away from you. 

This is the time to stop being mean to others who only wants to say hi to you. 

This is the time to relax.

Not the time to be superwoman or supermen. 

Give your self a break and let someone else do the job for a change. 

This is the time to get back into reading your Bible. 

Your news feed is not going to teach you anything. 

It will feed nonsense when the Bible will give you eternal life that you need. 

This is the time to make time for whatever needs you. 

To many deaths are happening. 

Don’t be the next. 

Don’t be the fool who cries at a funeral because you missed their beat when they were alive. 

Don’t be the fool who dies in the next lifetime and left nothing but, a negative legacy. 

Free From You!! 

​This is the time to be free from you. 

Free from the strongholds. 

Free from negativity. 

Free from the devil that is within you. 

You’ve been having me held hostage in your little nest. 

Your nest is filled with dirt every where. 

It will never get cleaned until you surrender.

You are wicked. 

Your nails are dirty. 

Teeth are yellow. 

House is so unclean. 

Your body has a certain smell. 

Yet, someone wants to be with you and you treat them as if they are unclean. 

How dare you treat someone like a piece of you? 


You are not dealing with a bank. 

You are dealing with a human being. 

You are not dealing with a sex machine, nor prostitute. 

You are dealing with a women. 

You are not dealing with your ex. 

You are dealing with someone new. 

2k is not what life is all about. 

You have your priorities all messed up. 

Yet, a kindhearted women puts up with you. 

She wanted to see if you would change. 

She is free from you. 

You tried to take her soul but, she let yours go back to the Devil. 

A person who claims they care but, only cared for the sex that was being received. 

You filthy, you. 

Having this beautiful women thinking all Men are all the same. 

When really it is you who is being the fool. 

You should be ashamed. 

You stink.

Who would ever want to conceive with you? 

You are just not right in the head. 

I know your mother taught you better than this. 

Everyone has been hurt but, that is not an excuse to be dirty. 

I will not wait for you. 

Time for me to work on me. 

I want to release all the dirtiness I received from you. 

Release from me. 

Release from me. 

Release from me. 

You are wicked and should be ashamed. 

I shouldn’t have started this with you. 

Letter To Self….

​Hey you. 

Yeah you.

Stop over thinking so damn much. 

You are hurting your insides. 

You need to heal your heart. 

Your heart is shattered like glass.

Everyone will not use you.

That makes you look insecure when you say that. 

Stop pushing everyone away because that one friend left you hanging.

Stop thinking no one cares like the others didn’t. 

You know how many people you have inspired through your poetry? 

Stop being selfish.

Everything is not about you. 

Everyone else can have an opinion on this planet just like you. 

That little pain in your stomach is telling you something. 


You need to heal from those heartbreaks. 

Healing takes a process like an application process. 

You can not skip any steps. 

Or else your application will not go through. 

Every time you skip a step. 

You got to go back and finish. 

Your therapy sessions is within your writing. 

You can not miss one. 

Each one teach one. 

Your words are valuable.

You are valuable. 

You have to leave this mindset that you are trapped in. 

It makes you look sick like sick preachers in a sick church. 

Everything you say goes right back on you. 

The words you speak about your self makes you look silly. 

Stop seeking attention from folks who could really give a shit. 

And start seeking God again. 

Stop caring what everyone thinks about you. 

That only brings you down to depression. 

Stop saying this world is untrustworthy. 

Build your trust with others. 

If they let you down, pick your self pack up and move on. 

Their are more people around who can show you better. 

You are not alone. 

You might not have plenty of friends at this moment. 

That is okay. 

God will provide better ones in the future.

Never beg anyone to stay in your life as friend. 

If you have to beg. 

Guess what? 

They were a lesson. 

You only 21, you got time to build foundations with friends. 

 This is your time to heal. 

I see you hurt. 

The fake smiles and laughter you show to everyone, I think others can see right through you.

You are never that happy. 


You are a bundle of joy. 

You bring peace in different areas that your presence is in. 

 God sees you. 

He sees the truth in you. 

You hate working. 

You are tired. 

You know more is in you than a cashier. 

You are a Spoken Word Artist. 


You keep letting others down you from not fulfilling your dreams. 

You are waisting your time right now. 

All you do is come home from work and sleep. 

Where is the studio?

Why aren’t you there 

Open mics every weekend. 

You missed one by being lazy and tired. 

Look at you. 

Shattering your dreams already. 

You just gone be another lost poet in the streets. 

Get yo ass up. 

You need healing. 

Time to think about you. 

Where do you want to be in life?

A 9-5 can only leave you stable but, will take up most of your life. 

You only get 24 hours a day. 

Think about it..

You might have to go days with out eating. 

Some people are going weeks with out eating. 

Motive your self baby girl. 

No one is holding your hand anymore. 

It is time to grow up. 

Be accountable of your actions. 

Stay true to you and others. 

Your word is basically all you got. 

Others listen to you. 

You just think they don’t. 

Now, don’t just write this to write like your other pieces. 

Follow through with it. 

It is time to heal. 

You got this. 

Hey you. 

Yeah you. 

Stop over thinking so damn much. 

High School Days…..

I remember those “cool people” in high school. 
The ones who dressed all nice with expensive outfits on. 

The ones who were loud in class to get the most laughs. 

The ones who fought just to get clout.

The ones who bullied the small girls. 

The ones who bullied the lighter girls and boys. 

I remember. 

I remember the “cool people” who took pictures in hallways. 

I remember the “cool people” who had the baddest girlfriends or boyfriends. 

I remember the ” cool people” who always looked down on the ones who were lower than them. 

I still remember you. 

Your name. 

Your face. 

Your looks. 

I just don’t remember your personality. 

You didn’t have a good one. 

I remember the “cool people” who used to do those “Vs” pictures. 

Where they compare the lamest to the coolest. 

Negative comments under all those pictures. 

I remember. 

I remember the “cool people”… 

Who lived not that far from me. 

I remember..

You think you look different now. 

I still remember. 

Your attitude remains the same that is how I remember you. 

Shall I call out names. 

I might be a little to bold with that one. 

I remember. 

I remember the fast girls. 

Got the most looks when they walked down hallways from dudes. 

The hottest.


I got my yearbook “Still”. 

I remember the worst years of my life. 

I remember being called Rudolph. 

I laugh at that now. 

I remember being called ” Tiny”. 

I laugh at that now. 

I remember when the “cool people” used to talk about my forehead. 

Shall I go on. 

I remember when I tried a little make-up on some people would call me a raccoon. 

I remember.

I remember a lot. 

I remember when the “cool people” beat me around the corner from my old house. 

I remember. 

Glenwood days. 

I remember when you used to bully me. 

I remember. 

You know how I remember. 

I see you in other people who do the same as you did me back then. 

I wonder. 

Do they know you?

I remember. 

You said you didn’t like me. 

Now I realize the reason you didn’t like me was because I had something coming for me. 

Just not in that time frame. 

I remember. 

I remember not getting invited to all the juke parties. 

Yeah, I definitely remember that.  

I remember I thought I had friends. 

Not really. 

I just remember a lot of drama back in my hs days. 

Most of it dealing with the main ” females”….

I remember. 

Your faces pop up in my view everyday. 

I remember.

I remember a lot of things. 


Because I remember so much. 

I want to personally thank-you. 

I want to thank-you for showing me that everybody is only doing  things for attention. 

Basically to get a show. 

The only way they can get that attention is by talking about people. 

I want to thank-you.

Thank-you for lowering me beneath you. 

Now, I am above you.

 Most of you females that bullied me are now pregnant. 

I thank-you for showing me that I can do better. 

Everyone has their own story. 

Mine is simply different. 

I didn’t fall under the statistics that most of the “cool people” did. 

I thank-you. 

Thank-you for talking about me. 

Thank-you for ganging up on me. 

I appreciate it. 

I learned I am still above you. 


I hope and pray that you are doing well in life and not bullying people that will soon be above you. 


Sexy Poetry…..

His playfulness brings laughter. 
His roughness turns me on. 

Makes Pandora turns to Pretty Ricky on accident. 

Those car rides we go on makes me think of what could be. 

Sex in the car. 

Sex in the kitchen. 

The kinky shit. 

Grab’n on his booty like its all mine. 

Listen’n to Keith Sweat while its hot and sticky. 

Sweat coming down his shirt.

But, I kinda did all the work. 

Play fighting like kids for the toys. 

Grown up toys. 

He so horny and anxious for those juices to come out his dick. 

My pussy squirt’n out like water from water holes. 

Grab’n on his dick I just want to jag the shit out of it. 

My mouth might touch the tip. 

With a little bit of licks. 

With my tongue swirling around it. 

Hop on top, he might come faster than I think. 

Our sexual chemistry is hot. 

More positions could come into play. 

I mean, 

We just getting started. 

Getting comfortable with each other is now in effect. 

Rubbing on his ear like I got this shit. 

My pussy got him in control. 

Asking me when my next off day is. 

He might just get attached to it. 

I am already in love with this sex shit. 

I think about what else I could to him. 

To maybe surprise in a way that he’ll never let me go. 

Being myself I guess. 

This little kid role I put on it’s about to go. 

My feelings are attached like an adult. 

I get quiet and move passed it. 

We spend so much time like an actual couple. 

I guess that is how you build shit. 

Taking it day by day to see if you with the shits. 

Our communication hasn’t gotten their yet. 

I actually might be feeling this dude. 

He got me whipped like whipped cream on ice cream. 

I never want to leave him the day I see him. 

I spend a night just to fall asleep with him. 

Cuddling to take stress off a rough day. 

He gives me that act right. 

Moaning his name like I got no sense. 

Knowing the people next door can hear me. 

I don’t give a shit.

He inspired me to write this. 

I told him I only try everything once. 

He sucks nipples like a fresh starter.

I am just waiting on him to suck the life out my neck. 

Hickies, yeah I love that. 

When he marks his lips on me. 

He won me all over. 

He licked the cooch once and it actually felt good…..

I’m just waiting on him to give me booty rubs and massages. 

Our sex is part-time might as well make the best of it. 

I wish I can just pull his lips closer to mins and do a little French kissing.

Have a little Trey Songs in the background. 

Get freaky with it. 

You know how it is.

Well, I am done with this erotic shit.

Time for me to get back on venting shit.. 

Wife The Royalty!! 

Her name is wife. 
Her name is not bitch, hoe, scrub or any of those slang words. 

Her name is wife. 

She will grow into being a wife that God created her to be. 

Her single life gave her some leeway to have fun and enjoy. 

Her single life did not give her an excuse to be a garden tool. 

It was for her to learn more about her self. 

It was for her to get some peace of mind that we all need. 

You can not comfort her by acting like you do not need her. 

She knows how to cook, clean, pray, speak intelligently, and clean up her attitude when the time is right. 

Her job is to become a wife. 

Not to become a prostitute. 

The one who sells her vagina for money. 

The one who sells her looks to get what she wants. 

Her name is wife. 

She prays for her husband when she feels he is in trouble. 

She knows how to be a wife. 

She writes about it all day in her notebooks. 

She knows good food when she tastes it. 

She tries everything once. 

If she does not like it, she will speak her mind. 

You can not force her to do anything because she has a mind of her own.

She is Goddess waiting on her God. 

The one who watches over her as she sleeps at night. 

The one who just stares in her eyes because they are dark brown. 

Once he realizes who she is, he will bow down and propose to her. 

A marriage ready to open up. 

A marriage ready to show our generation that it is possible to be committed. 

A ring will be given that doesn’t have plenty of carrots. 

A purple ring would be nice.

Purple means royalty and most people don’t know what that means. 

Her name is wife, do not compare her to these other rats. 

Rats get fat because they have nobody and are selfish. 

They eat up food that aren’t even theirs. 

Her name is wife. 

Look in the crowd with your eyes wide open. 

You might just miss your wife by being to blind to the scene. 

The scene of wants and not needs. 

Natural Born King

​I accidentally fell in love with another poet. 

His whole vibe is so intense, it makes me wonder. 

Wonder, what would happen if we spent the whole day together?

He knows how to treat a lady and not treat them like a Toy. 

He is the type to take you on dates and not take your clothes off the minute he gets a chance to.

He opens car doors, walk you to your house at night. 

He makes sure you are alright. 

He waits for you to get in the house. 

Pays for dates and sometimes goes half. 

Supports you and praises you like you are his lady. 

Who ever his momma is, he represents her well. 

He talks to you with respect. 

I wouldn’t say that he is cocky but, his confidence level is most definitely on 10. 

I love that. 

He offerers food and drinks. 

He is the man that every female could dream of. 

When it comes to his craft, he takes everything serious. 

He is not out here in these streets like these other guys. 

He doesn’t sag his pants. 

He wears dress shirts and shoes. 

He reminds me of a cave man by his facial appearance. 

Hair all over his face. 

Twists coming from the roots of his hair. 

He is a Natural Born King. 

This man I am talking about, I actually got to kiss him. 

This is what made me accidentally fall in love with another poet. 

Would I say his name, no I would not. 

I will let God reveal him when the time is right. 

I am honestly scared to mention his name. 

His feelings might not be mutual. 

Am I doubting myself?

Just a little. 

Don’t want to give my hopes up for something that seems so real. 

Ladies, you know what I mean. 

I am getting to know him more through his poetry. 

He has that male dominance that every female needs. 

If he says you are going, that means you are going. 

Some of his poems are sexually intense. 

He probably thinks I don’t read them but, I secretly do.

I miss him so, I write a poem about it to get out of my feelings. 

He is a busy man. 

So, I kind of don’t want to bug him.

We as Women tend to come off as annoying at times. 

I am just staying humble and letting God take the will. 

The universe knows what is right, until we meet again. 

What is meant to be will always find its way back. 

You meet the wrong people to find the right one. 


These artists are copy cats.
Copying each other like a bitch made copier machine.
They see the next and expect to be the greatest.
The greatest are the realest and not the darkest ready to be seen.
The darkest only exceed because they know how to lie.
Lying under a deceitful tongue.
When you become truthful with your self everything comes into place.
Your place of peace and happiness.
Man, some of these artists is whack.
Whack like Brussels sprouts.
Once I start dissing, everyone gone go crazy like woes.
Some of these artists can’t even write a full-blown sentence.
Front’n they move in music videos like they wrote it all.
You think we don’t know the truth?
Having ghost writers hiding in the cut.
Learn to write before you speak foolishness.
Once they cut that auto tone off, it is a whole mess.
Everyone ain’t meant to be a rapper nor a poet.
Don’t even know that a metaphor is without “like” or “as”.
Don’t even know that a simile is comparing two things together.
Don’t even have one verb to connect the piece together.
Man, you all need to go back to English class.
You all need to learn some new material.
You don’t even know that “do not” sounds way better than “don’t…”
Always trying to add more to your craft when it sounds good just the way it is.
Front’n your move for your fans who don’t really love you.
They only love what you bring to the table.
& what you bring to the table is not really yourself it is someone else to fit the press.
Your fans do not know the real you.
So you fall into the trap of thinking they do.
You like them screaming your name so you can have more energy.
Yo whack ass need to find some self love.
This industry don’t love you.
They love the idea of you like how others love the idea of love.
But, can’t really find love.
So, they search for love in all the wrong places like clubs.