Bombs over Broad Street

Another day another casualty

Soldiers in casual tees

No fear No cause Drip bodies so casually

 

Fallen ones seen as royalty

We fight to show loyalty

A civil war on our own soil

Foot soldiers collect spoils

 

White Powder Contraband, purchased in cold blood

In exchange for little children 6 feet in the cold mud

 

I’m not down for the cause

I’m not down for the game

I’m not down for the fight

But if I don’t I’ll be shamed

 

Hear Jesus callin’ my name

And I’m callin’ him too

Keep the Blood inside my veins

Keep callin’ it blue

 

I feel arising a change or something that I can do

Like the leaders we had, so scarce and so few

 

P.O.W. projects, refugee Crack houses

More supply more demand more illiterate crack spouses

 

Cadillac tanks one gun on the side

Shoot at enemy tanks, 911 on the side

 

Casualties in the millions

Bystanders and civilians

 

I approach the battlefield gunshots getting nearer

Lookin’ in the soldiers face is like lookin’ I a mirror

God cryin’ for the people in my head I can hear her

Feet planted no reason to fear Sir

 

To be remembered by Nephews Daughters and sons

Last words to my Militia what good have you done?

 

Reviews

[Nykkiicia Cion]

this is going in my favourites...i feel just how passionate u are from reading this. I also like the rhythm of the piece. Very powerful and so relevant, too!

[laceyjane23]

you really have a talent for writing! this is another poem that you put a lot of emotion into great job!
keep on writing! you are really good at it!!
laceyjane