Poetry,  Vic Stanley


Written by Victor Stanley Jr.


I’m locked in the streets way of thinking

But the world I exist in keeps on insisting

That I behave all politically correct,

But in my heart I harbor the resistance,

Rebellious persistence

Against the way that you dudes walk and talk

I keep distance between my pearls of wisdom and ya’lls foolish thoughts

Sometimes I black(out) and overreact

‘Bout to resort back to fistfights and straps

I just might attack these arrogant young lads,

Remind them exactly what this is

How I used to live,

Hustle, rob, and pimp,

What I used to did,

But I recover from the relapse,

No longer a young ruffian

I removed myself from the rapscallions,

These cats all disrespectful trying to test,

I’m practicing patience, changing my ways and

I know my mommas praying

I stick to that righteous path no playing

Forget what you saying

There’s an apocalypse outside

It’s better if you stay in,

I came up raising them thangs up

Slinging venom to strangers

Innocent as a kid, but look how it changed us

Menaces what we is, society framed us

Dennis’ bad behavior was cute in your paper

We brought it to your neighborhood, they labeled us gangsters

Get caught with that work and find yourself chained up,

60 years in the system I’d rather they hang us,

He hung on a tree dog, that’s why I changed up,

I’m focused here

‘cause it’s folks in here

That’re hopeless here

fire and smoke in here

Got ‘em choking here,

Trying to cope with fear

And hold their tears

I tell ‘em there’s a hope that’s near

That rescues souls from snares

A Savior that’s so sincere,

A Kingdom that can’t be shaken, the Devil get smote ‘round here,

A truth you might not know ‘bout yet

Enter into His rest where the weak and meek are blessed

And the prodigal is welcomed home

In the best robes he’s dressed,

And the heavy laden soul is alleviated of stress

And the weary find a home

And the orphan finds a Dad

And the widow finds some comfort

And the thief finds forgiveness

And pain and shame and anguish meet their ending,

And they’re mad that I spit this

And they hate that my grammar is backwards and twisted,

That passion in my soul has me addicted

To this grace and mercy and all this holy living,

Can I get an Amen! A shout or a witness

And it’s all right there, I’m sorry if you missed it,

I’m so sincere…


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