Poem

No one wants to hear me.
No one wants to see my tears
when I cry
in vain, calling for
help.

You do your best
trying to stay alive
in this horrible world
where there is violence and crack bottles every step you take.

When I pray to God at night,
I say to him,
"I'm ready to go.
I'm ready for you to take
my soul."

And yet, I wake up each morning and realize I'm still here.
That's how I know that
I am in this world
to complete something.

Something that's taking too long.
As each day goes by,
I realize
it's my destiny,
but what?

I can't act like myself
in the streets
because I have to keep it real.
What the hell does that mean?
My definition of keeping it real is getting a college diploma, taking care of my family and being a leader for tomorrow.

But still,

No one wants to hear me.
No one wants to see my tears
when I cry
in vain, calling for
help.

This world has buried my thoughts
and feelings
deep into the earth's core.
I can only keep it
to myself.