Voices From The Ghetto: On Bended Knees (Part 2)

The following is the second in a series of poems from “Voices From The Ghetto”, published by author Gaiven Clairmont and serialised in Wired868: 

I’ve been in situations like this before

But it hasn’t been as hopeless as this

As the rope digs into my flesh

Painfully reminding me of the mess I dug myself in

The life I lived

Sorry live

It’s not over as yet

Regardless of what these guys are saying

Whatever they threaten to do is no worse

No worse than what I’ve been through

 

My life wasn’t handed to me on a silver dinner plate

But I’ll be the first to admit

I could’ve and should’ve done things differently

Instead of acquiring semi-automatics and Berettas

I should’ve been in school earning a degree via tests

I shouldn’t have robbed that policeman of his vest

Because look at me now

Is a vest really going to save me?

To be honest

A test isn’t going to right now either

 

But still I’m just saying

The nine millimetre with the silencer on it aimed at my head

By a strapped man who probably can’t spell millimetre

Are seconds and centimetres away from rendering my brain

And by extension my body useless

 

My mom’s prayers are so remote right now

It can’t save me

How could it?

If I didn’t want to save my soul

If I didn’t want to change my ways

Can her prayers really, honestly have changed me?

 

It’s a fool’s prayers

But I’m not condemning God

I still believe in Jesus Christ

And though my body is beyond resurrection

My soul might still be saved

 

So God if you’re hearing me just know it’s over

I would talk but my mouth has been gagged

With a cloth soaked in my enemy’s urine

I’m sorry I didn’t subject to your will for my life earlier

I’m sorry for the path I followed

Instead of the path I should’ve made for myself

I was influenced by the wealth of the world

And the slogan the world is yours

 

If I was a better man

I would’ve seek ye first the kingdom of righteousness

And all other things would’ve been added unto me

But I wasn’t

I swelled my pockets, and my head

With the stain and disease of this commercialized world

All for this to be dead at 23

Leaving behind my girl-friend and 2 baby girls

 

Wow what will they do now?

There’s no insurance for being a gangster

And no pension for being a hustler

So I’m sorry

Even though I’ll never have the chance to apologize

I could only hope the tears shed by my loved ones

Could help repay some of the sins I did

At least the more horrible ones

But even as I come to you now in prayer

I’m not trying to get an eleventh hour ticket to heaven

I’m just placing my heart and my soul

My life

Minus the gold

At your disposal

It’s up to you now

Any decision you make I’ll respect

 

So my eyes are closed

And If I open them

It’ll be because you give me a chance to re-write the final chapter of my life

If I don’t

It’s because the conclusion was probably long over due

And I was simply wasting pages and stealing ink

From more distinguished authors.

 

Editor’s Note: Wired868 has been authorised to publish poems from Voices from the Ghetto for readers. We urge you to purchase an online version of the book  from Amazon by clicking HERE.