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The Golden Chyld
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How Long?
IP:
I don't expect to get many real replies back on this .. But if U do take the time to read it .. Thanks in advance .. One
Tired to death, outta breath, severly in need of rest Doin' his best to show finesse, but massa isn't impressed Neglect, hate is his fate, while he prays to get a break To exit this state of carryin' weight, hopin' for a dinner plate Chicken, fried no baked, but he has to wait till it's time to quit Designed to make massa rich, and supress the lashings of his whip Losin' grip of his dreams, and it seems he'll never build But he will continue to ask .. "God how long till I can leave these weathered fields?" Stuck in a cell of livin' hell, trapped behind steel bars Unable to see real stars, yet able to bare real scars He deals cards, and seems to be fine, judgin' by his outline But on the in lookin' outside, he hates when they scream "Chow time!" In his mind he keeps stories 'bout the lives of his dead ancestors There was Grandpa George, Mammy Esther and their white oppresors "10 minutes to shower and dress up!" He wishes they'd leave 'em be But for now he depends on prayers and dreams .. "God how long until Im free?" Screamin', cursin' demons along with her man's semen Leanin' away from the hurt, and more toward the dreamin' Deep breathin, tryna be strong, yet still swingin' her arms Sweaty palms, didn't know it took all this hurt to be a mom Doctors tellin' her to stay calm, not to fight, she'll be alright Fists clenched tight, from the contractions witnessed thru the night No baby yet in sight, brain too inflamed to recall the name Eyes closed prayin', "God how long shall I bare this pain?" Thunderin' clouds swarm around, while he stands atop the gold brick ground From a distance U can hear the sounds, of angels yelling in a crowd .. Of heavenly beings, a castle with arched doors lies at the end of the road Far from any opera show, the struggles of Jesus Christ are told .. Headache from all the voices, choices, and unscheduled appointments Angry cuz his annointment makes ignorin' them more than pointless Cries to redeem them of pain, other's pleadin' for freedom Only choosing to believe him in the times that they need him He's still bleedin' from the nails, and his death failed to prevail Cuz they're still sinnin', grinnin' while sippin' on mugs of ale Aiming for hell and laughing, while the thorned crown has him gasping Close to passing - out, prayin' .. "Father how long until they stop asking?" |
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