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I’m remembering thoughts preconceived…

A contemplation of love & its disbelief…

To relieve the potentials of heartache & pain, I tried to refrain from the games that love offered me…

Incarcerated by lies; the victim of neglect by truth,

And abuse by the officers of the law of love…

A slum dove with broken wings, journeying the grounds of painful things…

Feeding off of the grains of seedless needs of hopeless dreams…

And my needs are plenty…

I was sent here to be someone I’m not…

Within my name is my plot:

The “Prodigal Prince”…

Since my evolution I’ve been institutionalized, and not even my mind has been to the mountain top…

Manifested through unprotected sex –

Now no contest to the misery bestowed upon me…

Yet, no concerns when it comes to me…

Blessed be He…

For, I stand in the presence of reality…

“No man is an island,”

But often times I stand in the isles of inhumanity…

Somewhere within this whirlwind of misery I’ve lost a piece of me…

Now history rewrites me into my future…

My heart attempts to penetrate shit my mind isn’t used to…

And I used to not want to get used to anything…

Nothing…

Yet, everything seems to get to me…

My perception is the conception of a parable written in parenthesis;

The square root of my life has been rewritten in algebraic misery…

God bless America for not blessing me…

My God is within me…

Oh my God! What’s gotten into me?

All of my thoughts of women today are becoming unholy…

I had no father to show me a woman’s beautifications…

No excuse for my actions; just an act of apology, accompanied by an explanation…

To my ignorance of a woman’s worth…

I’ve had this wrath since birth. And now I’m cautious ‘cause I’m a curse…

Trapped in a world where my words are a hearse ride…

Tell me the point of trying when everyone is dying...

And the whole world is lying, but for my ghetto speech I’m crucified…

And my mind can’t take this stress…

I want to turn to weed, but my sanity won’t let me…

My mind-state is military; my only fear is eternal existence in this hell…

Picture my prophesy –

In visions of a blind man running from a broken home…

Falling to the grounds of a crime land, founded by all the times in his life he was left alone – naked in his four-corner room; bald up in corners of his nightmares –

Homicidal fantasies…

But to society he’s just a menace, so they don’t care…

And it hurts to reminisce on his childhood –

Misunderstood; an outcast to his peers – cast out in the wind,

And back stabbed by his only friends…

No one wants to know my pain, or even who I am…

So I’m antisocial in this commercial land…

Whatever happened to individuality?

I’d rather die by my lonesome than to live amongst a bunch of fagots…

And I’m not talking just homosexuals & lesbians…

Hell, these fagot Greek organizations are enslaving the minds of both males & females…

They told me home is where the heart is,

But mine got left behind when my dearly departed,

And like my single parent home I’m now broken hearted…

I guess you’ll never know love until you’ve lost it…

Will I survive all this agony she’s done to me?

I contemplated suicide, but in my mind I saw the cries of my closest family…

Where is the man in me?

Am I coming or going?

So many transitions since the beginning of my existence,

Yet in still, I seem to appear to be the same nigga from my Genesis…

I got the vision of Shakur – I’m now looking for a “Thug Mansion” –

Don’t have to be Saints to feel the sanctions of God’s hands…

But this life I lead got me stuck in greed –

A fiend for the sinful pleasures of a woman’s anatomy…

Can’t seem to focus; hopeless, with tormented thoughts…

Of a life of pain that this game has brought…

And my mind is a military pistol with the trigger cocked…

And this life without my pops got me dwelling inside a paradox…

From the womb to the block I’ve consumed this plot:

“It’s just me against the world,” since my girl is gone…

Am I wrong for the shit I do now?

It’s not my fault; I was taught that what goes around comes around…

And though I hate to love him, I gotta blame Dad…

But it’s sad, ‘cause he’s the only father that I never had…

In my dreams, “I suppress the revolution of premeditated schemes” by these gold digging tricks – spreading their legs to get rich…

But who am I to talk? I bought into this bullshit…

And now my birthdays are my cursed days…

Was I meant to be in the first place?

Or even worse – a mistake; the result of a condom break?

Now a product of cursed semen…

I’ve adopted my father’s demons – sex crazy –

I’m addicted to hearing women screaming…

Through the eye of my penis I see hell as my only option…

But heaven knows I want to change, but I’m cautious…

‘Cause what’s the use of a bunch of hopeless dreams,

When both truth and my childhood have been murdered?

A perverted manhood – misunderstood on purpose…

And my current circumstances got me barely standing…

Six months pregnant, but I’m the one abandoned…

I guess I’ll never break the family curse of being a single parent…

Though I’m a man with ambitions, my mission has been hindered by these ghetto circumstances…

Born worth-less of a project child; and this lifestyle that I’m living,

Moms, know that I didn’t plan it…

Though I pray that I’m forgiven, my heart is filled with vengeance…

Never shot on my block, or arrested by the Feds…

Just molested by the lies of a woman that I sexed – and impregnated…

How do I escape the mistakes that I made?

Faced with the death sentence for a love that’s incriminating…

Within the lines of these pages I’m paving the way for my seed…

Praying to God that he sees past the smiles, into the lies of a woman’s eyes –

Her true identity…

How did it come to this?

I wish the semen from my pops penis would’ve missed,

‘Cause then, for me, only heaven would exist…

But I guess I should’ve known better…

And whether together, the mother and I, for my son I’ll always smile…

‘Cause unlike me,

He’ll never sing the blues or the ballads of a bastard child



Tha Prodigal One...