On the moon
I’m walking on the moon without an astronaut suit
Digging very deep holes looking to find gold
Found hard ground shovel just broke
I love hot fire but I can’t stand smoke
My mind is real twisted like shoe string knots
The killer hate snitches but his friends all cops
He put a bullet in his head cause tragedy claimed his pops
And when that man raised his hand her love never stopped
And when I heard how she died my heart just dropped
And when I heard how he died human nature got props
And when I heard of pastor mistake my faith got raised
That’s when I knew you didn’t have to be perfect to give god praise
I’m walking on the moon with an astronaut suit
I know you think this poem is something about you.
(2012)
