Dennis Watson

Blactose intolerant By Dennis J. Watson

For you, i had high hopes, but your coating of my insides turns my stomach. We’ve come such a long way to turn on each other & show the opposite of loving.. Suddenly, i’m so disappointed… We were once whole, but the 2% you show has been cut down to nothing… I’m confronting you, as i speak evil things to my reflection… The section i was raised in had led me to forget my direction… Confession one, i used to abhor my chocolate complexion… Neglected by the lighter shades of skin besides myself has set directions, of darkness… With all the morris chestnut colored brothers our mothers only loved us, well, some of us… Look in the dictionary, they define black as bad, & dark, so they don’t trust none of us… I must say, cocoa mixed with caucasian milk has given it a darker shade, so what are you afraid of, a mulatto race… Last time i checked, women possess the same quality for every flavor i taste. But wait, they’re something hateful deep in the breastplateof the of the scorned dark shaded woman… You seem to forget your strength, because when you commit to your worth true kings come running… To hopefully confront your loving embrace… As black men we forget our own worth, & aim guns at our brothers face… Another life wasted that leaves a bad taste in my mouth because we fullfill the wishes of the rasicts… We must face this, except our faults & move forward… With all the genocide the new range rover the traplife provided it can all be forgiven 5 times over with 1 word, love… when you have this unconditionally for each other there is no struggle of who to become… We numb ourselves with 80 proof liquor & bags of marijuana.. Run up a check through the roof, but won’t think about calling your mama… Imma leaving you with a buffet for thought… In the fog of the so called american dream we all get sold & bought.. Experience aught to lead to wisdom, but, until then there’s only one answer to the problem of this long division… We don’t need to be einstein to solve the problem.. prison populations growing larger with black faces leaves more room for the streets to be fathers… I know it’s hard to hear, but it’s even harder to vomit the things that stomach daily, because i’m, blacktose intolerant

Dennis J. Watson
DOC #A632936

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