BB Grey–musings

In this cell, my new pickle,
Locked in like a riddle,
God’s playin’ games, I’m in the middle,
Brought a friend with a sickle.

“Did I pray to the wrong God, the one with the bling?
Gold chains, spinners, powder, everything.”

Prayin’ on my knees, beggin’ please,
Countin’ sheep, no Zs, just disease,
Woke up in this mess, no peace,
Dreamt of freedom, but it’s all just tease.

Warden’s screamin’, “Time’s up, son!”
But I just sat down, just begun,
Clowns everywhere, I’m the only one,
In this town, feelin’ undone.

Foot on my throat, this ain’t no game,
Shank me, do worse, I’m not to blame,
Did I pray to the wrong God, the one with the bling?
Gold chains, spinners, powder, everything.

Saw the prayers, heard the cries,
Folks starvin’, losin’, no surprise,
That God ain’t mine, I won’t buy,
I’m shoutin’, “No, sir-ee, I defy!”

This God’s fickle, in this hell,
My life’s a story, I’m not well,
Brought death with him, my escape bell,
Sheep and sickle, it’s my spell.

Dreams dyin’, sayin’ goodbye,
Leavin’ me, no reason why,
Lay me down, my soul to keep,
Dug too deep, too deep, too deep.

Fightin’ back, in my mind,
Words sharp, like a razor’s grind,
This ain’t the end, I’m not resigned,
I’ll break out, leave this behind.

Bars on my window, but my mind’s free,
Rhymes like a key, just wait and see,
I’m more than this cell, I’ll be,
The Wrap God, you’ll see me.