Didn't I say I'm sorry my child
is ghetto said the family's life's
I couldn't see you clearly history
stainless forks rough as tomorrow
But he named his child after a
rapper he was a rapper but
his child was a poet reading
in out lines for today's meetings
But my friend lies lives his life
daily for what he sees are they
forgiven today yes said the
father as the mother layed...
Pretending to be dead so they
where real ghetto children because
how they lived and worked out
to fall I just couldn't kill myself
They went to the western cape
as the where arrested there it
was a sentence of a life time
Lord I the sorry for Ghetto prophecy...
Is that they all lived to see tommorow
Behind the bats bars and no blood
was a trail travel to late they
spoke Aribic they where Moslems.
Dearest Love To The Egyptians
Plantard Dacull
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 04/26/2020
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Poem topics: children, family, father, friend, history, mother, time, travel, real, tomorrow, poet, daily, sentence, sorry, today, I love you, I miss you, child, life, ghetto, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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