underage thinking.

i'm still learning how to breathe.
learning to sleepwalk through nightmares that haunt my sunshine.
this is my reality.
they are still learning how to breathe.
learning to sleepwalk through nightmares that haunt their sunshine.
these are six young men standing for revolution.
cut down like the trees from which their ancestors swung.
this is for jena.
this is for wounds that don't heal.
feel your way through blinding dustbowl rural backlots.
education don't come free out there.
it's called experience.
living.
dying.
this is for cotton fields and watermelon patches.
no truth to spit out.
only fabrications.
no linen can soften these bars love doesn't conquer hate yall.
i'm talking about battle scars.
tribal dances.
trying to move along like right on still fits [(c) toya]
like bravery is inborn.
it's a harsh reality.
like realizing that bigotry is not a birth right.
it is learned.
like life lessons.
like growing up in a place that is still waiting for something.
for someone to stand the fuck up and fix it.
like waiting to be saved.
like realizing that gods and angels have blind spot.
.
.
.
and thats as far as i got.