So we are at 3/20 + 1...
I was on my way to an Open Mic/ Spoken Word Competition... shouts to #inspiredwordnyc ... and my Metrocard was stolen. Shout out to all the people who gave me Metrocards after I performed this piece. Ya Girl really couldn't get home. You could tell I was really mad because I left autocorrect on, so "your" should be "you're" and "its" should be "it's". So the grammar police don't come calling. This is it in its original angry state.
"To the Nigga who Stole My MetroCard"
yea i called you a nigga
cuz that shit is ignorant
and your soul is black
as the tar
the streets are littered with
you think you stole just a fare
just some change
everything in my possession
is so much more
because each of my steps are ordained by God's blessings
so maybe it was destined
for you to steal the change the trickles through the homeless woman's cup
of who's kids i see
annually and
sometimes weekly
because it depends on how deep the trauma
from the ptsd rings
through the brain of a soul that is stuck at three
even though she is numerically thirteen
and remember the princess stabbing
her king of a dad
and asks me with puppy dog eyes
why chuckie cant even erase her dreams
because he even runs away at the slightest hint of her dads screams
how dare you venture into my second home
on one occassion
and become sticky fingers
with what gives me access to make a difference
trying to change the world
with each syllable word and sentence
that seeps through my my pens ink
or the keyboards clicks
how dare you use my last hard earned
tears drawn
$25
like its nothing
$25 clothed
or should i say barely clothed
scantily clad
in the met
where inspiration was set
and celebrity eyes connect
to reminisce of the changes
time has led
not sure if for the worst or the best yet
the best is yet to come
the earthly prophet kirk proudly said
because you remain heartless
and pocketed
instead of gracing the bartenders grip
for you i spare no lip
you see because of you
a second trip
cause me a bus home to miss
now with an hour and fifteen to marinate
or your stupidness
and to continue
into you to rip
with not listening to my conscience
my superego can forget it
you see ny is not yet where i live
another state is where my head at night can drift
with clear view of the fireflies
in black onyx  skies
ocassionally blessed with the majestic trist
between starlight
and moon's temporal right
see its for my parents livelihood i give
i spit
these words
to win a gift because yearly
the government strips
away their chance to adequately provide
for their ivy life dreaming kids
education is the key to our existence
because back home
in the irie land
and cuban sands
it was much different
sharing rooms
without hot water to bathe in
apparently in some ny apartments
its not much different
but i hope your listening
an american dream they strived for
and i hope my sister and i can give them much more
so enjoy as my parents both still unemployed try and find a way
rubbing pennies together
to try and magically make a dollar
because unemployment is hard to swallow
when your youngest is away at college
and your oldest is drowning up to her eyelids
in 6 figure ivy league lion size debt
have i made you feel better yet
and some think this is a petty theft
tell that to the faces
of the babies
i see on the daily
in foster care before their mother's eyes
could witness the miracle of delivery
tell that to the faces of the teens
who say ms perry
why do you waste your time with me
my parents never wanted me
so you don't have to care for me
out of pity
tell that to the parents i encourage
when we meet
to keep hustling
in program you have goals to reach
so your children can return to you
instead of permanency
before your urine toxicology
is consistently clean
tell that to the teenage parents
that fight and scream
but realize it is better to have their offspring
in the system
so they can receive stipends
and life skills training
but pray silently
and cry secretly
hoping that these choices aren't traumatizing
have i made you wish
you had a time machine
this time is the only one
where it is polite to renig
please repent from your sin
and help me be relevant
to all those under my wings
and replenish
my piggy bank
money jar of dreams and talents
with the two metrocards you so cunningly lifted
from my carmel coated
marshmallow spotted
and look me in the eye
promise me
you will tell your game of thieves to think twice
promise me
you will never do that again
as long as you are alive
and will remember this poem
etched in subway lines and dollar signs behind your eyes
~Azucar~
[31.oct.13/1.nov.13]
