Sitting on the bus

Sitten on da bus
I sit and I think and I think and I sit
How on earth am I ever going to make it?
I mean a world where stupidity is glorified
I am honestly horrified at the blatant racism
That’s invisible to the naked eye and hits us from the blind side.
Like damn
I don’t ask for utopia
I know this isn’t Sci-Fi
But I just think of a world where the black man isn’t always the first to die.
Sitten on da bus
I sit and ponder
Unfortunately missing my stop
Stuck in an endless wonder of
What the world would look like
Revolutionized by the cannons of chocolate thunder.
Sitten on da bus
As person after person piles on
Blessed with ignorant bliss
I feel the pain
Drenched in chocolate rain
I sit and I think and I think and I sit
How on earth am I ever going to make it.
As I sit on the bus.
I realize that my writing poetry
And the old black man preaching
To the kids next to me
And
My father’s art
it’s all a head start towards something new.
Discourse is key and even in reading this poem to you
The revolution is starting
All this I think while sitting on the bus.