Hey, Mr.President
WHY? Better yet, when will it stop?
Do I really have to worry about my kids getting shot?
This isn’t a war zone, they’re just going to school,
so instead of a #2 pencil for lead I have to give them a 9 as a tool?
Now don’t I sound like a fool?
But I know you’ll agree that this world is so cruel I no longer fall on bended knees,
since the trend is to squeeze,
why not in the form of a hug?
Let love penetrate instead of a fucking slug!
That just makes you a chump,
OH! and speaking of Trump,
the punk lifted the ban that stopped those with mental health issues from getting AR’s in their hands,
are you listening?
this dude in command,
puts pumps in possession of those who will leave you slumped
before you could jump then dumped with the junk,
just check out the stats,
outside looking in the through the looking glass,
Donald’s such an ass,
I bypass all his bullshit
I bet you can’t walk in his children’s school with arsenal and a full clip,
you know what they say about loose lips,
well I’ll sink ships after walking in the White House and coming off two hips
like RrrraAAA!!!
See,truth is – private interest isn’t interested in in the public,
they’re like fuck it cuz money talks,
I’m like stuck kid as my, honey walks
out the shooting range,
and I’m, feeling strange
cuz they say I’m deranged
so I become enraged
and they want me restrained but,
I maintain sane and refrain from becoming another pawn in their paid campaigns
or a poster child for excuses on disturbed laws for the N.R.A.
and may I say that not in any way do I claim to speak on behalf of the mentally ill
but I’m bipolar and my disorder has my mood swinging at will,
I’m not building to kill like you Mr.President,
there’s many like you who need psych wards as their residence,
all we need is an “are you okay? “tell me how you’re feeling?”
and that’ll prevent suicides and sounds of kids screaming,
sights of kids bleeding,
smell of kids peeing,
chaos of kids fleeing,
now add to that parents waking up from their nightmares,
if it were me, I’d make sure that your fuck ass was right there,
to witness the pain and the rain washing away blood,
added to the tears that turns into insane floods,
too many shootings and not much is being done,
we’re crying for help cuz we’re trapped in your Hell,
you’re crying out foouurr on the golf course
like Oh well,
hey Mr.President…
*The opinions and ideas expressed are solely those of the author, and may not reflect the opinions of The Bronx Brand*
Jose Gomez AKA Polifiik Tha Poet is from the Morris Heights and Bedford Park neighborhoods of the Bronx. A published writer and poet, the struggles and different perspectives of life in the Bronx fuels hid writing. He loves educating himself and takes pride in the success of his children.
Follow and support Prolifik here:
Book, Beautiful Chaos: https://www.amazon.com/dp/0692053190/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_ep_dp_AH3BAbTMYYGEN
Blog: Www.prolifikthapoet.com
FB: Www.Facebook.com/prolifikthapoet
Instagram: Www.Instagram.com/prolifikthapoet7
Donate: paypal.me/Prolifikthspoet