A while ago, I wrote a three stanza poem called Art of Peer Pressure based on the Kendrick Lamar song of the same name, and posted it on NB. It was well-received, so I took the first stanza, broke it apart and extended it into three stanzas instead of one compacted stanza. I may do the same to the other two stanzas of the original poem.
It's still not finished, the last line still needs one more rhyme, but other than that, I'm done for now.
Times have been hard for Zeke recent
Dad's locked away in the prevent
His mom hates that he's never decent
He sees no reason in believing
Young black male, only see 25 with breathing
A better life only seems to come with dreaming
So **** it, he's in the streets and
His friends are scheming
They give him some heat and
Tell him there's only one way to leave poverty beaten
So the following weekend
He's out during the evening
Friends pushing rocks, and they deepen
His mother's worried sick
He's not at home sleeping
They're on the corners creeping
Slinging rocks and blood's seeping
Into the cement
His conscience tells him to be ceasing
But that don't sound appeasing
They find competition and he's screaming
Pleading for his life, but they aren't grieving
Two shots from Zeke and
That's one less human being
No remorse on the streets
Zeke knew that to have poverty beat
Some had to see defeat
Hustle, run, fight repeat
Some call it cheap
But what game has no cheats?
But playing with life is steep
Cuz competition don't just let that sleep
Now he's a target, strolling by in a jeep
Afternoon, after school, Zeke sees them as they creep
Slowly driving by, his heart skips a beat
Windows roll down, so he's quick on his feet
Duck into backyards, hide behind a sheet
It's seems like he's safe for another week
He lays low, trying not to make a peep
But the radar runs deep
Snitches, eyes and ears on the street
They close in on target, no hope for peace
Zeke is finally home but his mother
Is dependent on patron, she felt so smothered
Constantly worried he's gone, like her other
Suddenly, it rains into their home loud as thunder
They storm in, grab him his dome and his mother
Hearts cold as stone, she's ready for under
Zeke tries to own for his sins and what he's plundered
Just to be known as another n*gga who made bad decisions and was from the
Bad environments, that plunge the
Youths into graves at way younger
Than they're supposed to be,
Dad's locked away in the prevent
His mom hates that he's never decent
He sees no reason in believing
Young black male, only see 25 with breathing
A better life only seems to come with dreaming
So **** it, he's in the streets and
His friends are scheming
They give him some heat and
Tell him there's only one way to leave poverty beaten
So the following weekend
He's out during the evening
Friends pushing rocks, and they deepen
His mother's worried sick
He's not at home sleeping
They're on the corners creeping
Slinging rocks and blood's seeping
Into the cement
His conscience tells him to be ceasing
But that don't sound appeasing
They find competition and he's screaming
Pleading for his life, but they aren't grieving
Two shots from Zeke and
That's one less human being
No remorse on the streets
Zeke knew that to have poverty beat
Some had to see defeat
Hustle, run, fight repeat
Some call it cheap
But what game has no cheats?
But playing with life is steep
Cuz competition don't just let that sleep
Now he's a target, strolling by in a jeep
Afternoon, after school, Zeke sees them as they creep
Slowly driving by, his heart skips a beat
Windows roll down, so he's quick on his feet
Duck into backyards, hide behind a sheet
It's seems like he's safe for another week
He lays low, trying not to make a peep
But the radar runs deep
Snitches, eyes and ears on the street
They close in on target, no hope for peace
Zeke is finally home but his mother
Is dependent on patron, she felt so smothered
Constantly worried he's gone, like her other
Suddenly, it rains into their home loud as thunder
They storm in, grab him his dome and his mother
Hearts cold as stone, she's ready for under
Zeke tries to own for his sins and what he's plundered
Just to be known as another n*gga who made bad decisions and was from the
Bad environments, that plunge the
Youths into graves at way younger
Than they're supposed to be,
It's still not finished, the last line still needs one more rhyme, but other than that, I'm done for now.