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How can I come back from all this?

Days like today, I sit and think about my life and the situation I find myself in. Often I wonder if it's something that I will ever be able to recover from.  I get told that I can't beat myself up for things...and I truly understand that.  But, knowing that even if I wanted to blame someone else that it wouldn't been seen as mature or accepted in any sense, I find that there's nobody to blame other than me. And in accepting that blame, I also accept the shame, guilt and feelings of inferiority that go along with that.

People also tell me that nobody is perfect. I hear them and understand what they're saying. But, I also feel that society deems certain people perfect, and others imperfect, or broken, or unfit to do or be certain things.  As wrong as I know that is down in my heart and soul, as a second or third class citizen of this nation, I find myself helpless and hopeless to do anything to change my own station in life.

Don't think that I lack faith, because that's something I have managed to develop over these years and months when it's felt like everything else I know or was familiar with had been taken from me.  I have faith and I trust God, but I honestly don't trust anyone else nor do I have faith in the human systems that are in place to serve and protect us.  None of them have been created by people who are loving and compassionate, only from White folk who are destructive, biased and only meant to bring horror to the lives of those they see as a threat to their superiority.


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"Better You Than Me"

"Better You Than Me"

Maybe you can help me better understand
Why you act like a little boy and not a grown ass man
You try to run the TV, all day stuck on BOUNCE
And you're a fiend for the coffee, always begging for an ounce
You've claimed more than once all you do is "get money"
But I see you in here with nothing, so something is funny
At the top of your lungs you holler and yell
But make an excuse for your behavior, saying "This is jail."
You've got 6 kids, and 4 baby mamas
But you beg me for a click so you can call and cause drama.
You claim to be hard, snatching ass every day
But you expect me to be polite in all that I say
You're on your way back to prison and it's so sad to see
But I'd rather it be you going up the road than me.