By King Moosa
Swollen throat, rusted chain attached to the handcuff of my left wrist,
Me and my mama a mental mess, that’s when a detective walks in saying, “Sorry, Ms. Harrington but transport is here, Please say yo final goodbyes.”
We screamed; we yelled out; and we cried all out of fear of an uncertain tomorrow,
That night I seen a grief from my queen never before seen, only fourteen!!!
I began to play a game with the Devil Of Confusion (d.o.c.), and by time I came to and was already losing I was already lost,
Seventeen sitting in Menard, a maximum security prison at the bottom of Illinois,
The cell had a strong basement smell, walls was sweating, it felt like I was placed in hell, hot!
Yet we had to learn how to sleep through the most chilling noise, nightmarish screeching schrills you shouldn’t have to hear as a boy,
Empty soul so mama sent pics to fill in the void, but sometimes seeing good times can be like what I imagine it would be like sitting in hell hallucinating that u hear a sickling noise.