The sounds of a walkie talkie in my ears,
Sweaty palms, and under arms as I fight back tears,
Wondering if I am being taken to jail was my fear,
As I sit in the back of a Truancy van with some of my peers,
5 minutes ago I was just walking to school,
We were only 15 minutes late,
are these the rules?
Or are these our rules?
Accusations of profiling run through my mind,
Feelings of worthlessness empties my heart,
The strong arms of the law has rattled my soul,
Will I have to deal with this my entire life?
Another inner city kid reaching that fork in the road,
The voice to my right is telling me yes,
90 percent of this van,
Ear pierced, brown skin, baggy pants,
So at one point you will all have your finger prints ran,
Through the system,
So why even try to be different,
When you will always fit the description,
A spade is a spade,
Just call a friend of a friend,
Get in to the game,
You don't need a masters or doctorate to sell the prescription,
because beyond a reasonable doubt,
it is the only feasible route,
for a kid who looks like you, talks like you and walks like you to ever make it
out,
Then I heard a shout,
The left side interjected,
Whatever the right side is telling and selling you just reject it,
and forget it,
If you go down that path I guarantee you will regret it,
Don't be a fool, stay in school,
I see you as college accepted,
Then you can look back on this experience and share it in your message,
That a kid who lost his parents at 12,
Raised by a single grandmother without any formal education,
Overcame the obstacles of the inner city,
And made it,
To became a first generation,
College graduate in Education
Then, a light bulb flashed, over my head
I realized that the left sounded just like what my grandmother once said,
I sat back,
as my wandering mind snapped back,
I decided to do what's best,
and go toward the left,
By rejecting the "poor me" story I was being told and sold,
I was able to take full control,
When I reached the inevitable fork in the road.