Home sick

By The Angel Of Hope

I’m missing home so much the thought digs deep, and takes a hold of me

Each year someone who knows me, Is amazed to learn my nationality

Right after that they start to stereotype me

They start to tell me they know I must smoke and sell weed

The sad part is I come from this type of family

I grew up around drug dealers, and no not little dealers.

Guys in the main sites of cops eyes

I’m sick of seeing these black mini van’s

And being told “there goo’s the cops watching us with their mini cams”

I know right now homes not much better

But sometimes I just feel it would be better.

Back to the beaches

Back to the streets

Back to those oh so missed Reggae beats

Back to where 12year old kids pack heat

I know right now homes not much better

But sometimes I just feel it would be better

Some of them kids tried to take my uncle out

He’s not dead, but it seems like those bullets humbled him out

They took my boys life, before he could truly live life

Before he could even find himself a wife

Don’t worry im going to write a poem for you too

I think ill call it “Missing You”

Despite all these facts it’s still a fact

Id still hop on a plane and head back to Jamaica, just like that

I got a nephew growing up without me

Family im longing to see

smells I haven’t smelled since I was a baby

I’m sure some of you are thinking this kid must be crazy

That’s not Jamaica, yea this kid must be crazy

But theres a difference between the Jamaica you see on TV

And the real Jamaica, the one I know it to be

I’m not saying home is the greatest place

But then again you can’t say that about this or any place

I’m missing the feel of that sun on my face, and how my heart would race

As my body would take a fall, after a jump off Duns River water fall

Im Home Sick, and I think it’s time I do something about it