I spot them through the lens
All I see is pretense,
Sheer pretense without sense,
Instead of shape me
They rather scrape me,
Instead of teach me
They rather pinch me,
Instead of groom me
They rather 'doom' me...
Their finger
Always on the trigger
Ready to fire...
They see me on dreadlocks
And think my mind is locked with padlocks,
They call me a weak fence
But in my heart,
God is my defense.....
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