This is Hard

CATEGORY

When you driving on a longroad trip and the bottom of your foot gets to itchin, that’s hard, When Gina left the window open and killed Martin mama bird, that was hard, so just imagine how much harder it is, when you have to write a poem about yourself, exposing yourself, excuse me, but if I’m gonna make my mouth bleed sometimes, it ain’t gonna be to criticize the R. Kelly’s, the Kanye’s, the Nicki’s, the Jussie’s upset about not getting paid on empire, nah, let me tell you how this empire once crumbled, f**ked with my ex wife’s friend two months leading up to my wedding because she stopped giving up six months prior, check, never really bonded with my father until I saw him lying in a casket, check, tried to drink myself to death in a hotel room two days after having a heart attack, check, and with all those checks, I arrived at the bank, cashing out my soul in exchange for repercussions, I was paid out in divorce, depression and damnation, n***a I literally saw the world in 3D, I got a biological brother that I never met, my mama called my fat and asked me why I couldn’t be like my best friend when I was eleven, and after 9/11, I ain’t call my recruiter back for three weeks, you wasn’t bout to get me shot at, I dealt with enough bullets in East Chicago to fill up the entire duration of the Afghan War, but with war, I learned the biggest one is within self, so excuse the rope marks around my neck, I was trying to hang my past because my present was so ***ed up, I asked my liver for forgiveness, because when I listened to Kendrick, I would literally leave her drowning in swimming pools of liquor, and don’t mind the slits on my wrists, cause when I got tired of writing about life’s mischief in my journal and my hands could no longer grip the pen, I remembered that the blood purifies you from all sin, and i looked within and asked am I Joe, and then I remembered in spanish that joe was pronounced jose, and jose was damn close too sounding like jesus, but jesus is also spelled out Jesus, so maybe I was looking at the God within me to shed my own blood on my own cross, maybe I could pierce my own side and flow out the remnants of when Eric got shot round the corner from my house, and maybe then I can be buried and resurrected in three days, have the police see me walk out of the tomb and yell freeze ni***r, you fit the description of a suspect who just robbed Ray’s Boom Boom Room, and that’s literally LIFE with no comedy, see a part of me regrets coming on stage for years, for fingersnaps, handclaps, an occasional meet me in the back fine black man, and no one ever knew the real me, well, today i say, my name is Joe Rainer McClain Jr., I’m six one, two hundred and fifteen pounds, I have a scar on my right cheek from a fall on my grandmothers gate, Chick-Fil-A is my version of a perfect date, me and spiders go to war like bloods and crips, I’m a tough guy whose in love with the eight mile flick, so *** a pap doc, *** a clock, *** a trailer, *** everybody, *** y'all if you doubt me, I’m a flawed as *** black male and I say it proudly, and f**k this slam I dont wanna win I'm outtie, now tell this crowd something they don’t know about me