Hood Art

My art’s wack, but no discrimination;

Destroy the use of alliteration-

I’d take the use of rhythm & rhyme

over drawing and shading anytime;

I change the way they see expression,

put the blame on juvenile depression;

15 years old no friends in class,

Looking through blue tinted glass;

Mom tried to cure me with high religion

Just made me fall to a new division;

15 years old I’m just a kid,

He’ll never know the damage did;

Said “drop my sad phase, Imma go”

and since that day poetry’s been my flow;

I wanna see the world and all its mysteries-

Bet your mama I’ll go down in history;

You can hear ‘em say “Joanna’s bad”

But I don’t want them cuz they money sad;

You hear my drum from a mile away,

I’m in the game and I’m here to stay;

Mama taught me to take care of myself,

To take my attitude & put it on a shelf;

He wants his girl to stand behind him,

But honestly his future's way dim;

Boys come and try to press me

They don’t know that they’re the Red Sea;

I part their business just like Moses

They try to apologize with a dozen roses;

I’m the new religion you can call me bishop-

Their music so weak it couldn’t do a push-up;

16 years young & I’m barely starting

Stay home and study instead of partying;

I need to leave the town so I can go to college,

to explore the horizons and expand my knowledge;

The natives say that the very 1st sunset

is printed on the nails of those the moon met;

So I cut my nails and see these white rings,

Underneath my cuticles to remind me of bigger things;

My futures bright, that you’ve gotta accept-

I’ll step on those who on me slept;

I am who I am- I’ll be who I’ll be,

I owe all that to my best friend Kobe;

I am new to the world and I express through art

It gives me peace of mind despite my hood heart


This poem is about: 
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Need to talk?

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