12.30.2008

A Hustler's Dream

something happened to me today
I found a conscience while sleeping inside my cell
it had been missing for some time now
since I was selling powder through the roof of my silver Eldorado
should have seen it; thang was laid out pretty
100 spoke wheels spinning along the streets of my worn out city
raw cane packed so high in the house that it looked like I was collecting clouds
I was the police, the judge and the god damn constitution
I fed the entire hood my brand of justice with little or no mental collusion
cooked, wrapped and smoked
handcuffing motherfuckers with addiction
noses wide open from their white affliction
drugs and hoes fed my children; nursed my ego
I easily became a ghetto neighborhood hero
medallions and chains hang
cars, homes; knives and guns bang
my people would never be the same after my time in the game
we couldn’t go back to those soggy cheese sandwiches
roaches as pets
empty refrigerator
mom telling me this is as good as it gets
two younger siblings staring up at me
I was the man of the house before I hit puberty
even at eleven I had a hustler mentality
started with the grass, then graduated to powder
got bopped at fifteen
left the fam a security stack
my mom has never been prouder
kept her out of debt and my canteen creamed
22months to serve; I can do this in my sleep
25 now and running; living the hustlers way
everything was copacetic like Rakim used to say
had a baby boy and a girl on the way
that’s when it happened
I was riding the block with my little man beside me
turned at the second light and saw a young brown honey
hi how are you?; through sticky wet lips and big pearly teeth
I’m doing fine and so are you as far as I can see
she’s handing me the number through the window of my car
I see her eyes glance up and her mouth form into a scream
directly across the street, dude is on his knees
pointing a Tec in my direction
shots rang out
then
silence…
smoke clears
an eternity passes before I look up from the driver’s seat
adrenaline and blood cover me
look to the left; honey lay dead
look to the right; my little boy
my seed, my prince…. shot in the head
I can do nothing but stare at his lifeless body
his mother’s eyes looking directly at me
blank but still full of childhood memories
a bloody teardrop falls
and lands on the armrest
simultaneously I wake up from a ten year old dream
PRISONER NUMBER 01202009 YOU ARE FREE TO GO
16 MONTHS SERVED
and nothing to live for
but tomorrow
rewind