FLOETRY VOL 7

My mind's corrupted, goes with being an American, I walk the streets gliding with the perps of having nothing to inherit it. My country is hypercritical, but never fast enough be counteractive, its hypersexual, but never does anything to teach proper sex ed in classes. I'm an 80`s baby, so I heard the screams of crack babies crying and the sounds of sirens that are just too tired to answer another homicide in my area concerning the black side. Being a color can be gift or a curse, its great being black now but it's always good to be white, I don't know which is worst. Being ashamed of being white or being black with an educated mind apply for a corporate job and interviewer thinks your PHD is a lie. I fight to stay alive late at night as I transcend into the corners of my thoughts conscience which is my mind, my memories my thoughts, my prayers are my records. Any in completed prayers I have are spiritual letters, I don't have many friends, my country is drowning in sin. The last prayer I want to devout to the next generation, for I hope they won't become drunk of satan's lure as they grow in the forest of sin that their inheritably born in.