To whom it may concern
Here is an informational session in regards to those
that are boggled by the young black men from the mud
I’m writing you this letter as a young black man
that was born in the tundra that plagues us with little resources and pain
I’m asking you to look internally and ask yourselves,
why are we drowning in these environments meant to drive us insane?
See we were born into these environments that are constantly
Drowning us in a barrel of our own hate, jealousy, and lies.
The plight of the black man is riddled in mud and sorrow.
Bloodstains ruin the soil that is meant to grow seeds.
But they bleed the same cycles of greed envy and deceit.
We did not plant these first seeds,
someone ripped us from our native land and replanted us in the darkness.
Now they watch as we become the arbiters of our own demise.
They laugh as we clash and blame each other for taking our own lives.
It’s the never-ending cycle of hopelessness that makes us dance with the devil
, as we wake in a bloody rain of pain that cannot go away.
This is the tale of the mud.
A black boy is born into a single mother,
father either neglected him or faced a fate
he won’t be unfamiliar to in 15 or so years
He grows up being told he’s nothing,
from his parents, from authority figures, from his brothers
His education and savor are delivered
by the faces of those that look not like his own
So any type of guidance is birthed from the death and violence
that exists in the cold hard streets