Pops We Still Miss You

Tiny - Posted on 01 December 2011

December 1, 2011

We seen it coming, and still he died
it took hella long, until I cried.
he did not change his way, he hadn’t tried;
he sped the process up, until he lied.
he didn't slow it down, didn't stop being southern raised
he still cooked crops
he kept a bottle home, and a lighter.
he used to get some fronts, and cigarettes.
I know he loved us though, we made him proud.
he only hit me twice, never screamed out loud.
we always had some food, he paid the bills
until I had to loan, how proud I feeled.
wonder how sister feels watching him die.
he kept the dope smoke up;
he didn't even try.
I know she felt the pain, I felt it too.
she was in the third grade, me in high school.
he rested down the hill, in anti's bed
just right at Christmas, on the twenty tread.


This is an Empathy Exercize for PeopleSkool's class, Poverty Journalism 101


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