she takes her place as your

Ghetto Angel

the seemingly divine union of Beauty and The Thug

though she knows that you're so much more than that

so much more than

The hustle

The drugs

The guns

much more than hoes & gold-diggers

so much more than crooked cops  

more than material things  

more than that corner  

more than the premature eyes of the city coroner  

 

Honey you’re more than that  

 

much more than a broken home  

more than “fittin’ the description” 

more than the threat of your scorned lovers' knife from the kitchen  

more than beggin’ a judge for leniency on your life (and never gettin’ it, whether you deserve it or not)  

you are much more than hopelessness  

more than a mere decade or 2 on this earth  

you’re more than your mistakes and misjudgments   

more than the mean mug  

more than the grudge that you hold onto  

more than being called a gangsta, a pimp or a baller  

more than acting like you actually prefer these titles over something more respectable  

 

you are a rose growing from the concrete that has yet to fully bloom  

those who do not truly understand nor love you  

attempt to cut your lifeline way too soon  

but she understands you...  

your ghetto angel 

with a broken wing of her own  

still tryna fly, despite herself, despite circumstance  

despite her own mistakes and misjudgments  

despite the burden she bears  

lovin’ you. ​​​​​​