To Hold the Heat
A responsibility I've been cursed to keep
Since all my big homeys are parolees
On probation or known felons
And I have no police record yet
And am only thirteen
I am expected by my fellow gang members
To forever hold the heat.
And I hold it like its golden
Like our lives depended on it.
And I hold it like it's stolen
Like there's countless murders on it.
And I hold it locked and loaded
Cocked and potent and concealed.
Even though it's very presence
Will add decades to my sentence
I must carry heat and hold it
From the buckle to the scrotum
Hoping none of us will lose it
And I won't be forced to use it
Banging louder than the music
Like a drum-roll off the snare
Either wired or acoustic;
Hope nobody likes to stare.
Hope our enemies don't show,
I pretend to play the part
Of a fool who doesn't mind
Putting led through someone's heart.
And I smile amongst the gangsters
In my dark blue baggy jeans
I'm the designated shooter
And I barely turned thirteen;
I been cursed to hold the heat.
Charles Monroe's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (To Hold the Heat by Charles Monroe )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(September 16, 1925 – August 22, 2011)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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