The Rapper's Curse Poem by Wojja Fink

(Not new, removed by mistake)



Rapping words aint no fun
When tempting you with a knife or gun
And all your good just comes undone
Lost, alone you just become
Another prison number.

With a fool’s lost mind that turns to guns
Taking lives of beloved sons
In the prison you’ll just sweat
Long lonely days of ill regret
You killed your brother now pay the price
But be warned now that it wont be nice
.

Now inside you’re all alone
A once kind heart is turned to stone
Darkness in the mind is grown
When twisted words in there are sown
And strange ideas become your own,
And you believe them.

Somehow you wake but all too late
Locked behind the jailers gate
You wonder how it got this far
And how you wish you’d turned your cheek,
On so called respect so dark and weak.

You want “Respect” but don’t show any,
One twisted word is one too many,
Pretending you know what it means
You stain the world with dreadful scenes,
So out of tune you can’t detect
Its real meaning, you just neglect.


Perhaps someday you’ll hear instead
The cool clear conscience in your head
And save your self from your mother’s dread
Of the twisted tales, believed in lies
That wraps your soul in a thin disguise
Steals your mind and clouds your eyes,
You should know by now it’ll get much worse,
If you get fooled,
By the Rapper’s curse.




©