Personification

 
If the cornfield is GMO,
Then what is its fruit?
If the country is plastic
Aren’t it’s people too?

Black woman want to be barbies
Black men want to be kin.
Pop culture peddling
Discomfort in your skin

In the beginning you have no means
No means to an end
In the end you have no ends
To justify the means you defend

Translation

We born broke, and spend the rest of our lives trying to fix it
Seeking olive leaves to relieve the malnutrition
Shedding scaly vibrations of Spiritual procrastination left itchin’
For Sin-sation to soothe a soul sickened

Personification; To give the fake
Human traits

Silicon abusers
Become body shame accusers
Substance over-users
Brag about selling to consumers
Trapped, in the scheme
Opiates in the codeine
There is a “Thin white [Sic] line” between becoming the Scarface you dreamed or a fiend in between.

A surgeon can’t fix A broken mirror
But karma will

Traumas are anvils
We mold into trophies
We carry them on our backs
Expecting recognition
Then spit on the next persons
When we crave the attention


So many died
Living there best life
So many live
Living their best lie

Race wars online to erase war
From your mind
Many of US feel like
It is only a matter of time, and magazines

Life is a novel,
The curriculum taught us Time; the magazine
Handed us guns at nap time
Told US “Follow your dreams”
Two hots and a Cot with a snack in between

Preparing us for the hell
Dwelling in the same spell Until dispelled
We worship this body, this shell
Full of dualities we call personality;
We fell.
Into separate cells of the same jail

Million dollar chains you cannot exchange for bail
Thousand dollar cars take you anywhere you please
But if your drive is everywhere but inside
You will not find peace

A mascara matisse masking a masterpiece in the home of the slaves and the land of make believe
Mac need to make make up for the mind
Indeed
But if the mind is made up Our women will finally see
The beautiful nightmare of Their reality

Of course I expect change
All these dimes on the street
You made a temple of the physical
How can your mental compete?
Or better yet how can it mirror

She said, “Focus on my presence”.
She meant “Ignore my past”.
Irony she only feels beautiful
Showing her inflatable ass

Personification;
A Barbie who loves playing house with boys
Legs spread for possession; She’s a blow up toy.
Seeking to be kin he pours his emptiness into her void
She only feels passion when curled up around her toys
He pulls out, it’s like his dick was made of joy
By this time it is too late she fell for the ploy

The way doubt causes a bout as she cums to her senses
“Another woman conquered”, he thinks;
Gazing at her remnants
You only catch half a body
Stabbing a carcass that is defenseless
She feels offended, his games offensive
When are men going to admit this boyish sickness of Seeking validation from women

Pretending to be kin
Until it all falls to peace-less
Her battery finally dies
He cries because she’s speechless
He tried to open her up
Her circuitry is now depleted
He brings her back to life
Now she’s accompanied with demons
Personification.


-Mel