Who Am I, The question constantly rings.The voices slowly fill the bottomless pit.The answers knocked off by the assumptions made by others, your a bully with a very bad anger problem, your gay because you have a male best friend. your a druggie because you smoke a little weed.


Am I, A 5'6 bomb ready to explode. A young black criminal ready to be submerged, By the allegations of society, he's a murderer, he's gonna rob and kill you, he's gonna rape you, 

He's black their all dangerous. He's a rapper. 


The identity differed Am I a poet, rapper, artist, criminal, drug addict or just another NIGGA. Every day i fall victim to a paradoxical title. Those of which are so absurd the look itself sends a sting. Hmph. I drop my head clutch my skate board. bumping three days grace on my head phones.


A young man of mixed ethnicity, black nor white dominates my blood black nor white dominates my traits, so why am i categorized whether or not if i'm black or white, rich or poor, smart or dumb, good or bad, loving or decisive. my people are creole Rastafarian. The blood of a lion fills my soul. I am no god nor beast i am mere mortal who cringes at pain. And despises defeat.


Why am i lost stuck to live the life of sin. again and again i think of ways to escape my pain. roll me a blunt filled with Maryjane. just to be higher than the feelings that i'm feeling. to be on a cloud that's louder than a bomb.


I walk down this broken bvld. And watch as my dreams slowly pass me by. My tortured soul. cries but no one can hear the sighs. my frantically beating heart can be heard, like the hulk. Being submerged. trying to emerge. slowly a lost soul dies.Why does the question who am I. haunt me as i stare into a mirror. that holds the reflection of a shallow body that holds a broken soul.