A Speck Of Enlightenment.
Stepped of the porch round the age of 12... Hard to think bout heaven cause home was a living hell.
Sometimes grits was all we had for fuckin dinner... Black men standing by a burning barrel in the dead of winter, hard ass times in the middle of December.
Over time shit done changed... been rearranged... Some shit done stayed the same , it will drive lesser motherfuckers insane.
It's real out here on the battlefield... Motherfucker surviving if only on sheer will... Devastating the deadly form of this evisceratingly scintillating skill.
So many fallen by the way, bones left to disintegrate, altering into other states.
Dust floating on a serene breeze, a cough a sneeze, poetic this disease that encapsulates we.
Babies born knowing things instinctively, plugged in and trained cerebrally.
Such harrowing times, such poignant rhymes, fruit don't fall to far from the vine.
Take a whiff a da spliff, such an invigorating lift, a moment of sanity in the rift.
Man living in a subconscious shell, surrounded by heaven and yet dwelling in hell, such a sorrowfully sad and sordid tale.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
