A poem based on research and conversations with former drug dealers.
My mum says I am a dealer
My boys say I am the man
Mum says I am a disgrace
Boys say I am the boss
My mum says study
But my teacher knows I am not going anywhere.
My mum shouts change
But what other choices are there?
There’s high youth unemployment the BBC says
But I am fine
Jobcentres got jobs I hear
But I am not an employee
I can get an apprenticeship they say
But I am making dough with my skills
Schools the way forward I am told
But it’s where dreams are buried
The streets are rough they say
But they’re paved with gold.
Broken families are to blame the men in suits say
But mine never existed
Families should live together we are told
But mine is on road
Strong families are loving it is claimed
Mine is a source of payment
Family is love
Mine is for protection.
War on drugs they promise
War on themselves
Better education they say
Same shit teaching
Better jobs for the educated
More money for me.
Cops promise they’ll catch me some day
Good luck I say
I am causing misery they plead
Who cares for me I ask
We’ll lock you up and throw away the key they smile
I need a holiday sometimes I think.
We have no snitches in my family
They know the punishments severe
When I walk they see me
When I talk they hear me
I pay and I punish
I protect and I destroy
I am the BIG man
The king of the Endz.
Liban Obsiye
