The Hustler Poem by Donte Trezevant

Make room for the man
Who can barely stand
You walk by he smells bad
He used to have the moves
He used to have the flow
He broke his feet in the guttah
Now his feet don’t go
Aspirations to go to college
Ever since he built that bottle rocket
7th grade science project
And it blew up in his pocket
He is the man that lies in the streets
It was life that hurt
Turned him to the streets
He lives there
Like a carnie in a fair
A circus maybe
But life aint fare
It never was
The life he faced
Was the one he chased
Off the block, n in his socks
He was found guilty of the game
His lawyer was the Streets
The judge was the cop
That put him in the box
His wife was the Hustle that sold his soul
To a pimp for her pleasure
But she didn’t get it in return
She got screwed over
The Hood is under
The Hustle is OVER