Counting on my Hands

They were twice removed from the past, and like a dog it follows in the future

That constant reminder of failure

or, that constant idiot that reminds you were you started

Where do you want go?

What do you want to be?

Consumers - consume the paranoia of freedom and forget reality of poverty

Im counting down those days where leaders finally prance down the halls and the streets of the  ghetto

Where Martins and Malcolm's dream finally come true

Im counting on the social equality definition to resinate to new

Im counting down the days until I graduate, become a change and a voice.


Counting these years over and over again until my counting is done.
Guide that inspired this poem: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741