Jamaican YoungsterDo my feelings matter?The emotions of a youngsterShoved away in a cornerShutted up, shouted atTreated disrespectfullyBecause of age and skin colourWhile they talk pointlesslyBut not about the emotions of a youngsterWhile they walk on the pathway that leads to nowhereBut only away from a youngster in fearThis harsh and aggressive wayTo have their way with youngstersNot even thinking that day by dayThey grow older, life flips the pagesThese life enfolders, gone away by the agesInto mobsters, gangsters, prisoners all errsCome back to end any life even your ownRinging in your ears like an old telephoneMemories and forgetfulness of the treatments received while a youngster facilitates their acts.
Bottles up insides, these emotionsSo transverse and versatile,So complex, so endless and to the maxUntil they burst and the bottle cracksinto pieces, let lose these dogs on leachesThat can smash any soul away, everydayOn the news another act in lewd but somewhat shrewdWhat about my thoughts?What about what I've seen?What about me?The futureMis-educated, rated as nothing reallyThese youngsters, voices muffledHands cuffed, beaten, threatenedEducational system wasted the black youngsterDiminished them to zero when they were a hero.
That they needed to try harder, whenThe educational system slouched, with a pouch of junk, s/t like foodThat they didn't study enough when the tests testedBut whether you had computer database memory.
Output facts, and that was thatLacked resources, lacked teachers,But devious preachers, who abused authorityLacked encouragement and positiviTY.
The psychological part constrained.
And strained, it tamed them NEGATIVLY.
Uniforms pressed to pressure themOppressed them and not treasure themThe subject English done onlyto cut off their life's sentences,Write their stories, control their souls,For prison and death sentences