When communication ceases
I stay of out of the street
cu’z your kid’s are annoying
the spit rhymes like poison
a regurgitated scheme
and their fire turns into a faint gleam
of light…
and I stand there in fright
of certain generations
cuz’ the people who should same them
stand in the limelight…
don’t do anything right
raise their hands
and stomp their feet at night
acting like God will send them a flight
to the Caribbean to run away
cu’z they don’t want to stay
raise children
pay for a sin
now created into the most beautiful skin
they should hold
protect
caress until they rest their head
until nightmares
turn into dreams.