Keith Bond Jr.

Closed Eyes By: The Painter (Keith Bond Jr.)

Memories from a lost soul.
burnt flesh disturb his nose..
As the spring sun create diamonds from shattered glass.
Rusted chain nets clink against the back board,
as dry leaves circle the concrete court.
As the wind pushes a beer can trailing trash.
A infant cries carries over the train tracks.
While a dog tiredly bark.
Handy down Jersey,new jays over sized shorts.
Ashy knuckles clutch the handle of misfortune dreams.
Colorful baggies hidden inside,
away from his uncle veins.
Numbers dance inside his head,
as he calculate his gain.
grimacing from his last night lost …
I must honor the code or be railroad.

These are the memories from a lost soul
hot blooded with cold fingertips
passion with the wrong ambition
genuine with filtered affection
blind to any common commitment
his principles are design to be relentless
priority is survival by distance.
even behind steel bars
he honor the code
unknown to his journey as a concrete rose.
where lies are told
Now yu realize YU should never be surprise
an to remain loyal 2 eye
is the only way to survive….
Og’s lie to thereslf justifying
the way they due time……
An trust is a mutual understanding from pride.
An those YU share blood with
thats all it is YU is a relative nonthin more to them…
out of 21 yu been down 13yrs
YU seen your moms once
grandma sister an all…..
An YU lie to yourself saying,
its good they didn’t want to see me.
Every time they lied to YU after a call.
Convincen yourself that’ll make YU weak….
Branded under your heart,with a skull burning in flames…
In due time you’ll be free,
but how do YU cope with being free?
Because the only time YU is free is when YU sleep.
-Fruit From The Root-

Keith Bond Jr.
DOC #537-103

Categories: Keith Bond Jr., poems

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