A Condition

I got PTSD from slavery
My great great great great grand stolen
Elders had it and passed it hereditarily  
Nothing to heal the discrepancy
In the unity
They say get a job and consume
The system religiously
No need to trace roots, get assimilated
Thru the TV and be a finger pointing
Comedy and allow your people to die
In the streets by each other and the police
The leader who supposedly looks out
For me, hoards us into ghetto communities
For political promises
Only to be left empty
Like souls that crucify their own
To reach monetary goals
Turning our Earths and Queens to
Cosmetic silk androgynous hoes
Isolated by the anxiety
I developed terror syndrome
Ready to grab my chrome and
Exercise this devil
Cause my emotions are numb to the bone
Mom might be crack
Daddy done roamed
Education system makes you a drone
Cant read or write and dont wanna know
The rose that burst thru the concrete
Will look around and never feel at home