Untitled.

Walking through the streets saying hello.

Never believed I was an angel with a halo.

But I thought I deserved more than a pass and go.

Or A cold shoulder saying hey, that's the door.

Or a backhand saying hey, that's the floor.

I'm just a black man tryna root in my core.

I'm tired and sore, working the

muscle of surviving through hell.

Happy with simply better than fail.

Content to live it seems for the chance to tell

My story not through glory but through trauma

Wasn't easy for mama and it’s still far

from a reflection of triumph.