Who Am I?

You look at me and think
“What could she have been through?”
Do you want me to stereotype you?
Look at this Native American that looks white with an Italian name
Someone who doesn’t do this poetry for a name
Or fame
The one who came miles and miles to tell you the truth
Has spent just as many hours as you in the booth
And tell me what you think
Who was the last person that you knew
Was 11 years old and her story was told
On every block in the hood
The one whose life was no good
Cause her mama was a junkie
And she became a flunky
For the government
And never even knew
Oh, you thought I was talking bout you?
No, I am talking about me
And no, you may not see
How I been through many things
But that is what the Glory of God brings
From the situations
That life deals
I come to you real
As I know how
I’m not gonna bow
To be the person you want me to be
I’m the in your face poet
Yeah that’s me
I do kick it with Prysmatic Dreams
I am part of the team
And when you stream
The poetry
That is opening your eyes
Don’t expect lies
To come outta my mouth
I will tell you the truth
About every step of my youth
How I grew up and that may not mean much to you
But I have gone through more than any fake ass rapper
I was one of the original trappers
I’ve been a trap star
Rap whore
Had my guns run against ballistics
Locked down
Locked up
Put on house arrest
Had bounty hunters on my trail
My bed made up waiting for me at the jail
I didn’t get a roll when I walked in
I had a pent house suite
In LD-4
You know the place where they only open the door
Once a day
And then you can only pray
That they
Will give you 5 minutes to take a shower
No hour outta the cell
Like the rest of the heffas in jail
All because they set me up
But you got the nerve to buck up and step to me like
What does this white girl know?
I have been in more crack houses
Than safe houses
Had to fight my mama’s spouses
Over a piece of crack
Government had a track on me
From the get go
How many people you know had the TBI land in their yard?
And wasn’t able to pull the race card
Cause they look white
When was the last time you had to prove to the government what your race was?
I am the minority
Who looks like the majority
And because of that
Can’t really be me
But Imma be what you see
When you open your ears
And close your eyes
Get rid of that disguise
That’s covering the lies
People like me die
We gotta pray that the man doesn’t just say we don’t exist
See,We on the list
Of the ones to just fade away
So I stand before you today
As a Native American poet
Trying to show you that
No matter what you see
You should get to know me
Hear what I have to say
Cause there may be a day
That my truth
Will save one of your youths
It may be your little sister, brother, or you
I stand here telling you truth
And you got the nerve to close your ears and turn your head
Cause you see someone of a different color
Talkin about what happens in your hood
But it’s all good
Cause Imma keep coming back
Takin up the slack
Of the people who wanna act like they don’t have a voice
Become ignorant by choice
And it all begins by the prejudice you been fighting against your whole life
Don’t get it twisted,
I’m not white
I’m prismatic
Blackfoot, Iroquois, German, and Cherokee
That’s me
But if you didn’t know it
Above all,
I’m the in your face poet
So hear me
Feel me
Hate me now, need me later
Cause I do this for all the haters
The lovers
The fathers
The mothers
And most of all
I do this so the next generation
Will know there was someone who was willing to tell the truth.


© Geovanni Marcel 2007