Friday, April 20, 2012


I was bored at work and started to write, this is what i came up with, fresh from my thoughts:

By Delroy Nesta Williams

They will call me a hater
Cuz I don’t dance to the beat
Of their drum machines
I don’t need to be at every sewo
And sing songs with lyrics
Of people more clueless than me
I don’t need to be copycat “stars”
Who pretend to have it made,
But when the truth comes out
They’re so much more than fake!
With weaves, press on nails, plastic surgeries
Fake teeth and jewelry
Just why all the drudgery
To be a replica
Of a Nicki Minaj
Who is clearly just a mirage!
Fabricated to mislead us all
And wishing to be anything close to real
I truly don’t see the big deal
How they spend all their time
Trying to make it
When they’re only faking it
I’m sorry for those little girls
Who dream of one day being Nicki
The beautiful black “Barbie”
But there’s nothing more tragic
Than a black woman covered in plastic

They will call me a hater
Cuz I don’t linger on the streets
With nothing to do but
Holla at every female that passes
Sizing up their breasts and asses
Or laugh at every foul-smelling, misdirected vagrant.
They’re so misguided, it’s blatant!
But they can’t see it
Too busy caught up in the bling
That they don’t see this things
That the very beggar they mock
Is someone who was once in the same shoes as them
But who took a mis-step.
So instead of giving a helping hand
They laugh as much as they can
Not knowing how easy it is
To switch places and end up in the shoes
Of the man who smells like doo-doo

But they will call me a hater
cuz I’m not a trend
I see more pleasure in being an individual
I’m tired of their pretence
I look like no one else
I’m just happy to be myself
But they look all the same
So I can’t tell the difference
Who is real and who’s synthetic
Yet, they call me pathetic
But if I call them out
And expose their flaws
Suddenly I’m the hater
But they’re just conformists
Who sell out for “swag”
And pretend to be bad
Cuz gangsters get more girls
And the Nerd look is in
So that’s what they gonna do
Even if they don’t know 1 + 1 = 2
And they have no idea
That they just selling themselves short
Boys, girls, it’s time to grow up
But I will tell them plain
They’re just a part of the game
And they are no different
Being led to their doom
And I’m so glad there’s no more room
In this “IN” crowd
Cuz I can’t be a part of this
Where I can’t be myself
Just let me be me
Let me be different
Cuz in the end
All that’s left
Is my difference!

I could go on and on
Cuz rambling is fun
But I gotta go now
I hope you enjoyed my poem
It wasn’t meant to hurt or offend
I just needed to get a few things of my chest
So now that it’s said and done
Peace out my people, I’m gone!

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