Red Hot Poem by Doctor Dashaun Snipes

When I was a teenager spirit grazing in the high grass, I was taught that I was less than anyone on earth not just because I was black.

Because I was always a praying spirit, it made the embodied jury around me angry, it made everyone want to retaliate out misunderstanding.

How could they when they wanted me to serve the sacred crucifixion for someone else?

Someone else with a heart of stone.

Someone else that takes pride in my suffering.

He calls himself a King because he can cheat on his Abel and have a fling between two lovers.

What makes it worse is he is not satisfied, as he prys for information probing the city's good Samaritans hard drive to successfully identify a face, address, name, number, occupational status, relationship between my biological father and potential lover.

Because he wants me to share his turmoil within his own namesake.

He wants me to be pressured into giving in to suicide while he boast about being more fit, more qualified, more appropriate for anyone easy on the eyes around my life in general.

The both of you agreed to put me through this weird one, and now you're telling me that you're Red Hot mad, because you got your chance to hit me with your best shot.

You come around flashing your love life in my face, then you say I am not panning over my girl.

You always have it your way, like burger king, it's gone way  too far, and now I guess you can see, that I am Red Hot, I since that you are insecure, and afraid I might take your girl.

I don't even like your girl passed the friend zone.

You don't want to be, but you won't let go of me, and now I am telling you I don't have to be a better father, better provider, because you need one.

And I know now that you're Red Hot mad at me, because you won't see me bring home a boy, or girl to turn into your mind slaves.

You already turned everything and everyone else around against me, but I am not enough, but yet I the only one envious, because you looking for someone else to blame.

If you don't want me then don't talk to me!

Go ahead and free yourself, I tried to love you but it's hard, I've had enough!

Don't you know that I tried to love you, but now the love inside has died.

Why don't you be a man, if you're so hard?

Instead of make-believe what they say.

Now, that you've lived out your dreams for so long in my life, reigning down, and playing house in my life you are Red hot for no reason.

Mad at the things momma sacrificed  for you, but it's not good in your soul, until I am no longer breathing.

Now, thirty seven years later you want to pretend to be my forever friend.

Telling me I'm all you got, in a world of sinners.

Through the spring, summer, winter, and falls I could not see the underlying enemies under my head heaping coal on my head.

A reflection of a misunderstood doll being under someone else's mind control in a dream.

Now, even though I suffer unusual firestorms, I don't usually say anything about it.

And now I am Red Hot mad at what's been going down on me.

You've been acting out of line, trying to steal and proclaim what is mine.

Always waisting my time, just to ensnare me through the vine, and poisonous wine, after the trying to meet reservations for two to dine, it was fine for the sign was blurry and then you told me I could stay overnight til tomorrow at nine, because ten thirty in the morning you had to go on and do what normal American citizens do punch in the clock machine, but you could not guess I figured it out, you were inflicting your persecution and all your cares on me, it was a pun intended on me to want to turn rage into a crime, you're saying something about me all the time High Point, low points, as if one moment I am your Messiah with broad shoulders carrying the weight of a million member family.

If you see Jesus branded in my ebony skin tone then let me know now.

Next thing I know I am not supposed to be, not supposed to have, nothing that anyone else besides your kukluxklan band should ever take off their Tee- shirt for especially if their a cowboy married to the gym, just working on their fitness from head to toe when they think about it.

And now because of you I am,

Being pushed away by boys and girls because they careless; don't want nothing but to watch me suffer, whilst they soak with the sun enraged at me.

One minute they want me down.

The next they want me up and Adam.

Then they want me under you.

Unfortunately, I am all alone, and their Red Hot mad, but until they realize that is what they nerves wanted all along, but under them.

Then they want me to encourage them.

Next, they want me to give up and leave.

Then they want me to be independent, turn around and then it's dependent.

Wanting me to be all alone, then tomorrow be similar.

Chasing men; chasing women; chasing cars and a purpose to find structure by upholding financial aid and fairy tales of where you should be in a blueprint.

All of this confusion; the toss tussle and tumble, makes disbelief, and now I'm Red Hot mad with you.

You want me back because I have anywhere else to be.

I don't deserve this and that and anything you lack, because you are mad at me.

Do you even know why you are mad at me?

Because everytime I turn around you either do or you don't and that includes how you want me to be.

You say you want someone serious, and extremely gifted or attractive to possibly be beating.

It's unclear to me what you want from me, and so starting with my orientation, I'll be the fagot America.

Now you mad, because you won't ever darkly replace me, I think I am the pride and the joy, of my four father's.

Get along, move down in your insurance, and your value.

Yes, you were here first, but of a different donor.

Yes, you were here first, but I am here now, to pastor your pastures.

You heard the story of a man child would be born someday, well I think I am, and deserve a chance, to build my table, since you don't want me to afford one.

It's understandable you want to be the only one, you're just another God with a lower case gee trying to imbalance the equation for your favor.

You like to make me feel for you, and now that I won't conform  to and move like you to become straight for cakes, and pies you're just mad.

When you're around, I'll just turn it off, like a switch to dark seekers like you, who always want complete control and my undivided attention as company.

It's a shame because I am natural selection.

Sacrificed to be the girl you know, with a Red Hot body just to skyrocket your mind.

Now I'm Red Hot mad at the scenario.

You want me to be alone for you, and when you stay the night alone by me  to use my shower, you wonder why I never noticed you.

Now, I've been living lying low, with my head pressed down towards the floor, waiting for the storm to blow right over me.

This is why I am going to bring all of my wings, and fly down the middle over the line of fire you tried throw me in to burn.

Looking straightway at the mark, not looking to the right; to the left.

All I see is red!

All I see is red!

Most people they want insidious things, like love, but not me.

Just give me the boat with lots and lots of cash.

Now, my fairy godmothers Red Hot, because I lost the will to love a girl.

Now, her inner circle is Red Hot furious, because I know who I am.

Who's I am still don't mean anything to them.

She can't sue me.

She can't run me over with the bumper of her motor vehicle that she doesn't realize I know she rented out.

She can't throw me away.

She can't control me.

She can't touch me the way she imagined.

She can't; you cannot, you won't touch me like he could.

And now their Red Hot livid with me, because everything they imagined they were and could get away with over me is not lining up for them.

The wicked witch of the west had two demon spawns, that are mad because they can't get accepted before I was, so they made an idiotic tale, that I touched them.

And now their tragedy is make-believing I touched them when I was never there.

It's sad people don't know what they have until it's gone, and now their Red Hot because they want to watch me become broken to pieces; to bitter to be any good, not strong enough to have something good for myself.

They all want me to be locked away for good, with the keys thrown in a bin.

Now that they are all Red Hot enraged by the fact I can prove something so walked on, can wobble in confidence in control of attending a community college, there's no room for me to let you in on the secret.

Let it go, if you're Red Hot vengeful, because everyone you know of, related to, or even dated is more peculiar then you say I am.

You keep singing aloud you're a sinner, but you won't get this.

Quit beating the streets down to find my door.

You don't need to replace me for the true target that should be in a pool of blood.

Be Red Hot angry at your consciousness, you lie to yourself tell yourself anything to make you happy and mad at me the next moment.

It's seemingly to me, the double vision you have a standard of is very clear.

You want to shred me into two, and give me away for four shackles of silver, I just knew that you are as Judas, you'll sale your soul to the devil to be recognized in history.

And now be Red Hot mad at the way you only get accepted in the world.

When you pretend to be like me.

When things are too easy.

Where you can collect tokens, I can be all you need.

A Life-size trophy.

A physician when you are broken, or ached with pain.

A doctor when you feel ill and unable to get out of bed.

A way maker when you have been through a bridge, and nobody else; nobody else; nobody else, nobody else, could fend for you.

A photographer only keeping all the positive photoshoots, and discarding all the negatives.

A punching bag when you're mad, like the situational irony you adhere today.

Living this life isn't hard enough, once you realize you don't have anything without me.

It's alright to deny the fact that you like to burn; melting down the reflection you hold up the mirror see you're nobody.

Not even to yourself, I like to see you pull yourself apart trying to fix the place inside that was never whole to start with.

It's why you're always looking for someone.

Searching for answers of rhetorical questions, deep in your soul you already know.

You're incantation, desperate and impossible to please.

Please don't call me.

Look for my whereabouts I don't want to see you, hear you, empathy I can't feel.

It's alright; I know who you are and I don't love you anymore.

Don't feel sorry I'm walking on.

Be useful; do yourself a favor, when you get anxious, oppressed about what and who is on the other line in my phone.

Why don't you just drop dead, because you know I am always right.


                         Authorship by Mr Dashaun Snipes

                       © Dashaun Rashod Snipes
®Red Hot