Poem -

fear to the question

fear to the question

I’m not scared to die if it’s fighting for my kids but I’m scared when my son asked me how do I  be streetwise When there is so many violence and gang signs, 
people being brain wash, 
having there life lost, for some dum shit, when you didn’t grew up with a Silver spoon in your mouth, you tend to be involved in it, 
mum always told me, if someone hit you hit them back, can I really tell my son that, for my son to be in an altercation,  media classes them as another black boy, police lieing about my son  been gun down from a robbery that went wrong
Because i wouldn’t know how to strong
Or do I tell my son to count to 10 walk away, swallow your pride and live another day, 
Because my left angel would tell me u have daughter, my right
Devil would tell me to buy a gun to bus back to flush out the, trauma,
And with the anger and thrussation I’m scared who would win
 So I try to be the best, with my words, my action, the strictness, the love i give everyday, not just birthday and Christmas and hopefully it would reflex, so I pray, that I’m a better dad,  then my dad ever was to me

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Comments

author
sparrowsong

Hello Demarco...

I wouldn't want to have to raise young kids today...

If I did...

It does take a tribe to raise them...

​​​​​​We would live in a fantasy if all children were raised with good values and morals...

But, parents without can't raise with...

They will answer their own question if they feel they're going to die...

Are they going to die a fighter or are they going to die a coward?

We can just love them and teach them they can be the best they don't have to be like the rest...

We borrow our children we don't own them...

They are a gift not a guarantee...

Great write!

Thank you for sharing...

Hugs...

sparrowsong

 

Reply
author
Demarco La-croi...

Thank u for saying your comments, I’m glad u like it, sos for the late reply

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