The face behind the poem….

We rap revolution but we work for the institution, 

consciousness is killing me

Frisking me

Bound by these moral codes I look at these fucking clones that I call friends

Even in their name they spell an end 

My spiritual ancestors why is it so hard to contend with your legacy

Pyramids and teachings of love 

My blood must’ve been deluded cause I couldn’t have came from above 

I’m trying to ascend  but these mental demons  are  causing me to see vivid images  of massas victims  screaming 

 Thought I could be the god I wanted to be 

maybe I’m just dreaming.

PTSD I need a profession— 

No wait can’t think that way 

Or else my vibrations will sway 

Knowing the truth at a young age  

Trying to turn the page of history 

This is my story 

trying to preach to my sisters but they won’t listen

Products of institutionalization  

Minds imprisoned unable to see a realization

They say look to god so I look in the mirror trying to see my demons clearer  

Cause the only change I’m going to get is from myself. 

Tell me to look to Jesus so I look to the story of Horus to see how low religions fell causing me to dwell within my own mind. Looking to confide within these lines.   I see Strange fruit hanging like vines when I look at trees sometimes,

Stress and depression is hereditary , seems massas Mark is still branded into us, from the cradle to the grave 

Tell the story of this mental slave   Obituary riped with pain  

Insane how I’m only 17 with an 

abundance of tales  to tell  

Deandre Durham 
Already living in hell 

Now you have a story to tell

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