Louise Clarke


Forced To Choose - Poem by Louise Clarke

Forced to choose
with nothing to loose
Kill or be killed
I choose no blood on my hand
So I can still enter the promise land
Like a red rag to the bull
I lost it all
Some hoped I would shatter
stumble or fall
Fight fire with fire
But that's not my desire
So I'll rise up higher
Whilst my body wont tire

All material gone
I am forced to move on
but my soul stays calm
whilst my mind hears the alarm
People await
my reaction to 'fate'
but I hesitate
cos it's not too late
If the Lord has my back
there's no need to attack.
For your shit is whack
Whitney lost it to crack
and so did Lauryn
and so did faith evens
and so did MJ
And silenced they stay
ridiculed by the media
to stop the words
that would feed ya
Of the truth unknow
Play or be played
that's how it's weighted
the public so blinded
of works hard to hide-it
what really does go down
behind the front alters
torturing daughters
led to the slaughters
'Oh Whitney got fat
aged on that crack


But look again
and again
at whitney's rise and fall
At her pregnancy stories
yet no babies at all
only Bobbie
who was taken
from her to the ''Family''
yet I watch her womb
expand on my TV

The public say
'Oh she got fat'
Oh she forgot her words
or' she still on crack',



the same for Lauryn
recordings we can't find
they say she lost her mind
the minite she told the Pope to repent
for the abuse they do
to babies for lent
No studio,
band
and then bassist removed
she don't turn up
her fans confused
Put them on crack
they all look wack
they ain't coming back
but they under attack
Whitney, Amy, Lauryn Hill
Faith Evens, Tracy Chapmen
our Sisters they steal



People Wake up
and smell the truth
It's all set up
And I got proof

when you hold the truth in your mind
Then the reasons are not hard to find.

Whitney managed by her Dad
same with Amy
They act so sad
But to me it's a front
a game for the blind
It's sick and twisted
No help they find


How can that be?
that drugs hold them
They keep returning
again
and again

They make crack look
like an impossible prison
Yet I have seen thousands
from its trap be risen

Even those crack holds
on the floor
still come through
to settle the score

Yet these sister
with so much to loose
seem to reject their path
and crack they choose



It can't be so
I tell you all
There's more involved
than sick media ridicule

It's all arranged
and goes to plan
it's sick and twisted
help us God Amen

Topic(s) of this poem: politics, reality, truth


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Poem Submitted: Friday, January 15, 2016



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