Note to self. Come back to that. 

What’s wrong?!?

It’s the flaws
It’s all that, raw. 

It’s the claws 
attached,
Not the open 
Paw. 

Note to self. Come back to that. 

What’s wrong?!?
It’s the flaws
It’s all that, raw. 
It’s the claws 
attached,
Not the open
Paw. 

As I stare in your face 
Its clearly lies + Race. 

It’s on the self
They-they lose
It’s on the shelf 
All dusted, old news.  

I ain’t no joke,
This ain’t no smoke.

It’s a virtual problem.
It’s a paper problem, 
It’s a message problem,
It’s a messaged problem. 

wrong medium?
wrong season for Em? 

poor genes,
poor dreams,
poor writing,
poor crying.  
Oh, poor dying. 

Monetized negrotude,
A See, that “L” was on You!
Mad crazy my dude. 

Monetizing broods,
Monetizing moods,
Monetizing Black,
Managing on Slack. 
Oh, manager crying. 

Greater than a grudge,
Something akin to sludge. 

It’s faced. 
It’s flawed. 
It’s still, just as raw. 
Lurking, yet tall. 

Oh yes, note to self, Yo Shadow looms long; And ain’t nothing wrong.