
Something I started creating in my kitchen, I got inspired to write this while watching some spoken word artists perform. I do plan to revise this version but this is the quick little spoken word piece that came out of me this morning and I enjoy it.
Rated: Fiction K - English - Family/Tragedy - Words: 291 - Published: 01-29-10 - id: 2769664
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Kids Raising Kids
Every night is a living hell
Torture for the girl
The tears she cries from her crystaline eyes are like raindrops from porcelain skies and it's no surprise that this is a regular occurence.
So what does it matter is were twelve or twenty, we're kids raising kids, auctioned off for the highest bid and we don't have books on our shelves we begin to delve into thoughts that make us sad, make us glad, for at least we are alive and we strive to be better everyday even when the grounds are gray, so if I sing there song please don't look away.
See I'm giving them a voice because they can't speak for themselves, all I need is me and a mic, cause there is something we all have alike.
We're the race of humanity this is borderline insanity that halfway across the worlds theres little boys and girls raising other kids because there parents aren't around, dead and underground. They gotta grow up before there time, and it's up to me to tell there story in a little rhyme because staying quiet is just a crime in this grand design so I gotta open my mouth and speak up, never back down and help.
I've got my venue theres no excuse time to stop being a recluse and get my voice heard, these words soar on the wings of birds, and while you may think I'm absurd, I say it's about time we help and give a little hope, cause these kids don't have the time to play games, no tug of war on a rope, they are just kids raising kids.
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