Ok I write bars
To release my soul from these bars
I scar this pad trying to touch the stars..
But somehow I miss the target and end up back in bars.
Prison or nightclubs
It’s all the same
It could be the illest shit I ever wrote but it feels like I wasted ink in vain..
Something that my people can quote but they only want the hook
Like “look..”
“We don’t wanna hear your pain”
I’m not asking for 40 acres and a mule..
No massa..
I just want a live band, a mic and a stool..
Ok Massa?
Is that cool?
They say Nah! I say why?
They say “your too dark!” “your jeans too baggy!” “That’s not the hip-hop they want to buy!”
“So what do you wanna hear?” I ask…
“Some fuck bitches? Nigga business?
Gangsta gangsta! Bullet bullet! My dark skin under ski mask?”
Then they reply “can we have some pimping with that?”
“And p.s can you dumb it down though”
I wish I could scream NO like Lupe fiasco..
But Atlantic passed on my demo!
And without this dough
This pile of bills swiftly grows.
Till they are taller than my son..
And his mom and my mom..
Are running their gums.
About me and every black male out there..
Like stop fucking dreaming, things are real out here!
I’m Held hostage with..
“Your son can’t eat your ideals or dreams..
So he starves and struggles as long as you kick and scream!”
So I give in! Fill my pad with tales of cocaine..
Throw some d’s on that bitch and put on my chains.
But..Past my new fans and momentary increase in my monetary figures
All I can hear in my heart is..
“Welcome to the field.. NIGGER.”

(©Eddie smith aka Versetti 2008 )


This piece was written whilst waiting an hour for my friend(Who is on shaky ground at the mo lol) 2 meet me for lunch..
whilst listening to this..

The dark brown shades of my skin
Only add colour to my tears..

That splash against my hollow bones
That rocks my soul..

Looking back over my false dreams that I once knew..
Wondering why my dreams never came true..

Is it because I’m black?

Somebody tell me what can I do?*

*Syl Johnson
Is it because I’m black?
Another late night.



  1. Another gem… I’d like to request a poem about me… so I can laminate it and blow it up and hang it on my wall. So when you’re famous I can boast and say I knew him before he was famous! :- D

  2. for requested poetry..
    send cash to ……..

  3. Times change, people don’t.

    A brave piece, enticingly conducted and clearly heartfelt. I’d be great to see performance videos of your works! The performance aspect would only enhance and further engage.


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