Woe is Me: Hood, Mentality

There is no excuse for ignorance.
There is no excuse for blatant talks of nothingness.
There is no excuse for the woe is me,
There is no excuse for a ghetto mentality.

I enter a revolution here.
Sprinkle in a quotation from a militant
and declare that one is setting up oneself to fail
cold iron on hands declaring a phone call and bail.

There is no excuse.
There is no excuse for a choice.
There is no excuse for predetermined fallacies
That once that choice is not made,
you live unto your own default sublimely.
There is no excuse for single mothers doing it alone.
There is no excuse for single fathers living at home.
There is no excuse for being raised in the projects
Or living in the burbs'
There is no excuse for not reading books
Or using idiocy as words.

I enter a light bulb here.

Sprinkle in a Eureka! followed by a euphoria
I awaken the brain cells so that they can smell the truth from lies,
the honesty in which your soul simultaneously surrenders decries.
I declare upon mountains and speak this as your elegy,
How stupid is it to blame others, when a choice is only made within thee?

There is no excuse for excuses.
There is no excuse for lateness when you have a clock,
Because your importance overrides my schedule
And my patience rides a thin line is no shock,
as I tell you that your life ain't making it rougher for me-
Your perspective is your excuse
living in hood mentality.

There is no excuse.

I enter an Aha! and sprinkle this with with a little bourgeois
Mind as well be uppity compared to hood mentality in an cerebrum
Being as though that environments carry the social aspects of respect in decorum
The world is your nut, and you jizz all over the earth
Pour some beer on its grounds, score it as your virginal re-birth
Ride slow and loud, hindrance of temporal lobes befall on deaf ears
Bass bumping on streets, maturity not scaled in years,
Baby Momma's abundant, baby Daddies exalted
No use of quality time, checks straight to the IRS defaulted
Electric in a child's name, credit at its best
TV blasting Maury Povich, can a brotha get a blood test?
DNA in the streets, corner hustling by the shadows of night
Cell phone dialog exuberant as as speaker phone holds private details in bytes
Social media thugging and Internet knows its bully's finest
Itch on ankle tugs the black box of intermittent house arrest
as I tell you that your life does not make it rougher for me-
Your perspective is your excuse
living in hood mentality.

There is no excuse.

-b.r.rivera
15 of 30
#30in30