A black man with a gun

An angry black man with gun... as he points it straight at you, with a face full of scars in the form of tears.

They call him a savage, hooligan, uneducated, Babylonian, those that know him; know him as savour, a hero, real nigga, brother, son, friend which is tightly wrapped by respect.

Ask his little brother what he wants to be when adulthood hits; his answers will be surrounded by characteristics of his older brother...

A role model to the people in the hood, he helps the old ladies cross the road, his the eyes of the blind, teacher of the untaught, brother to the brother less. Father to the aborted babies, food of the hungry...

His mother is disabled from stroke caused but a broken heart, she doesn’t work, but she goes to bed with a full stomach, no worries about bills, because he has been the man of the house ever since daddy left with a bag full of clothes and no space to pack in remorse or regret. And for the last 10 years he forgets about his family.

My brother puts me through school; helps me with my homework, walks me to school, after making my lunchbox, buys my moms medicines.... a story told by his younger sister, written in an essay with title topic of “my hero”

When asked what he does
the answer is simply

His a gangster

A brand ambassador of THUG LIFE

Initials of The Hate U Gave Little Infants Fuck Everybody.

As he stands there about to rob you, with my gun in your face, barrel ready to fire if they is any sudden movements.

Do anything to survive; is that not the survival cry of government help, because they do nothing for us here in the ghetto,

No streets, no public pools, no schools books, no proper schools, no sport grounds, no clean water, no proper houses, like you have in the suburbs. Just promises when election comes

Anyway back to the scene, my gun is ready to fire, don’t move man, give your wallet, your car keys everything.

Shit this guy has seen my face, so he has to die

Bang, bang and bang

Three shots fired

I killed him, with my gun but my bullets are words

I’m a poet, the worst thing to fear is a black man with a gun loaded with ammunition of knowledge....

Watch out for the shots; for one word can kill you consciously....

Lebron Spirits