Ali Jabbaar

My Fight, by Ali Ace Jabbaar

(sorry for cursing).
My fight for being relevant is celibate.
People give no fucks but then I’m blamed for being arrogant?
Most choices in my life are being made because I’m sharing it(my life)
But that’s not by choice like single mother co-parenting
In the calm I ride waves. My road dawgs are like strays.
the itch in my palm is napalm. Headlines burn the front page.
I got Left. That ain’t Right. But I’m not on Center stage .
They want control with no cure..But my fight ain’t with aids.
I have night mares. Like I didn’t past the 12th grade.
But I did…….. just no single A’s
Just TonishA’s and AliciA’s. Talk about T&A
Now my fight is with a girl who give me a DNA…………
Test. I want part of that 99 Percentile.
My fight is distinguished gents is going out of style.
Just to get an inch, collateral is a mile.
I have no phone; peoples excuse not to dial…
My number. Just leave me with Stevie Wonders.
I only see summer, when its receieved with thunder;
Somebody died or in the hospital. My help is impossible.
My fight is this crash course: getting out of this obstacle.
Alive! Not barely. Lord please fully functional.
My fight is to eat with my kids. Man I miss them lunchables.
People say they’ll “always be there no matter what” you do…
Spiritually they might be there, but physically? never punctual..

I Would like take this time to say that 99% of what I write is true, non fiction story of my life, in case your wondering.

Ali Jabbaar
DOC #623086

Categories: Ali Jabbaar, poems

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