Uptown Poetry: Meanwhile Back @ The Mental Plantation

BY Sour Indyka (@sourindyka)

(Photo: Briana E. Heard)

(Photo: Briana E. Heard)

Escape with me!

I cease to wait in vain, to be saved.

Enslaved, caged, contained behind the bars in my head,

after all, it is all in my mind, imaginary cell.

Unseen chains, the heights, It’s no wonder that we believe in hell.

Oh how swell; the coffee, ooh the smell (inhaling insatiably)

wake up, rise up. All or nothing.

let’s bet it all (smdh) over or under.

The Red Skins have nothing to do with it.

There are no guarantees.

Life, Think you’re special.

Jesus Saves you say.

We are all a little mad here, don’t be kind,

at least that is what the Doctors say.

How much did they pay you to be blind?

Out of sight out of mind.

Where were you in 1992?

Can you really be saved?

Xanax does the same, oh sweet day,

the day that freedom truly reigns, until then.

In my mental underground railroad is where I’ll stay,

{…to be continued}


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