Death Recipie Poem by Erica Sheppard

We eat like we still slaves
Now we got something called freedom to eat
But granny still choosing salt covered pigs feet
I still choose whatever is given to me yet
Family functions we got that kill your soul food
that food that will have you so tired you would think the main ingredient is nightquil
We got that death recipe
We eat that
Fried pork chops,5-layer cheese macaroni them chitlins
Off of food, I get high
So high me and kites come face to face
It runs in the family but some of us hide it by sticking 2 fingers down our throat
Or getting surgery or taking pills
But me?
I just kinda let it show cause
After school therapy, night school
therapy night school and work I want
nothing more but to inhale a double
decker chocolate fudge brownie from the
Latin bakery next door in the morning
coffee doesn't wake me a twinkie does that
Nighteadoesn't calm me more like a
strawberry milkshake normal and I can
never be the same, every time I look at my mother I wonder if I'm next.