A Conversation with Society


Who am I? Why am I here? What should I strive for?

How will I know when I’ve achieved success?

How do I live a happy life?

How do I become free?

Man these are some deep ass questions y,all!

Who could I possibly go to, to get the answers?

I know! My homie society.

It always gives me answers

Whether I asked for them or not,

Even to questions I didn’t ask!

So let’s get society in on this conversation,

Society, who am I?

You. You are what the parts of me dictate you are.

From my head you are exactly what my design intended you to be, stuck.

Through my eyes you are nothing more than a lazy, shifty eyed

Nig-ni-nice guy, I’m not racist don’t look at me like that, who can only be

A killer, slanger, banger, predator, nigger -- shit I’m slipping I meant to say thug,

But I’m still not racist though.

My hands gloved in black and navy blue

Wearing protective knuckles that I personally like to call shields,

My middle finger twirls a pair of silver cuffs that want only to caress your wrists,

My index that points through an index of laws

Created to give me any excuse to feed you to my complex,

Oh but don’t get twisted that ain’t all it can do,

If you get what I’m aiming at.

Through these hands, who you are becomes

Paranoid, fearful

Frustrated, cynical

Violent, hateful

Dead, beautiful

Mourned, and tearful.

In my heart, the part of me that is closest to you Nick,

I’m afraid you will find no solace.

For my heart feels that you are

White-washed and bougie,

Sensitized and crazy,

Stoned-out and lazy,

And shit since we’re being honest with each other,

My heart also feels that you’re an arrogant asshole as well.

Yo, I’m just saying though.

You asked me,

And since you are so lost and absent purpose,

I will more than happily snatch you and those like you by the hand

And like a wolf in shepherd’s clothing who led the entire flock to the pack,

I will put you on a path to most assured destruction.

Answers! Why are you here? To serve God and country,

To get ahead by any means necessary,

To get rich or die trying,

However don’t you dare forget which one of those was intended for you nigga.

My head has put too much time and thought into creating this design for your uppity ass to forget your place and ruin it.

What should you strive for?

Strive to appease God in the hopes of gaining eternal salvation.

But don’t focus too much on that,

 Because I also want you to strive for the fame and money,

Then use it to buy cars, clothes, mansions, boats, and jewels.

Keeping in mind that I own all that.

Yea give me back those dividends.

But if you fail to get the fame and money then you can focus all you want on God.

Because if you’re too busy living for a God that may or may not be there;

In order to get to an afterlife that may or may not exist, emphasis on the may not.

Then you will be too apathetic to raise Hell about the Hell that you’re living in right now!

How will you know when you’ve achieved success?

You won’t because the finish line is constantly moving farther away no matter how much you kick and crawl towards it.

How do you live a happy life?

Easy - ignorance is bliss, put your blinders back on and stop asking so many damn questions.

How do you become free?

Well personally I think this is a pointless question,

But whatever I’ll answer it.

Within my design you will never become fr-


I’ve heard all that I need to hear from you society.

It’s dawned on me that your head is in a dark place

And you can’t see far enough passed your own small intestine

To give me the answers that I’m looking for.

Did y’all catch that?

I’m saying society has its head up its ass,

So it’s no wonder when it opens its mouth to give an answer nothing but shit flies out.

The question that I should have asked is

Why did I ever take your answers to heart anyway?

Because it is your answers that give little black kids pause to become more than

Ballers, rappers, singers, and the occasional comedian.

Yea that’s what you want us to be, your entertainment.

Fuck that!

It’s your answers that cause little black kids to feel out of place among their own race

Because they were raised to properly enunciate their speech,

To effectively articulate their ideas,

And not to propagate your stereotypes on what it means to be black.

So when those kids come in contact with their own,

The brain-washed will refer to them as white-washed.

This. This is why I despise you society,

Because you would try to make me despise myself.

You would shun me and condemn me then arrogantly proclaim that it’s what’s best for me.

But I’m an asshole?

No you’re the asshole and I’m the dick that’s here to screw you.

You think you know me?

No you think you own me.

Through your influence and lies you seek to misguide me.

Through your judgmental stares and comments you seek to control me.

Oh the irony!

You must not know me.

My eyes are open now,

Looking through a sniper scope, eager to see the pink mist on your evil ways.

My legs are AK-47’s, my feet the 7.62 rounds loaded into the banana clips of my Chuck Taylors;

So that every step I take towards progress is a shot fired at your foundation.

Because walking to the rata-tat-tat-tat of my own beat is the only way I’ll be happy.

Hate me all you want because the only love I need is my own.

I’ve finally realized that I’m asking the right questions but the wrong person.

Because I can’t get to the bottom of my deep water questions when I’m searching outside of the pool.

Now I see. This is me! I am me! I am me! I am free!



I wrote this poem because for a long time I used to let my social surroundings dictate who I was, such as over bearing authoriy figures and judgemental friends and peers. However I'm finally at a point in my life where IDGAF about what others think of me. Because when I tried to fit myself into sociey's mold I would often fail to "fit in" and this caused me to feel depressed, empty, and lost. Now I finally have the confidence to be myself and pursue the things that I want out of life and the knowledge to see through the system that just wants me to be another cog in its machine. Ever since I've had this realization I have never felt so emotionally liberated and determined to succeed despite the odds stacked against me as black man in America. 


Here is your V.I.P. pass to my mind.

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