POETRY: I Used to Love H>E>R by Reggie Drake

"I met this girl when I was 10 years old,
And what i loved most she had so much soul,
She was old school when I was just a shorty
Never knew throughout my life she would be there for me on the regular...
That's what I thought hip hop was supposed to be.
Beautiful and full of verbal sustenance
Galvanizing young minds with lyrical rhymes that portray
Episodes of financial hardships and social injustices in the form of
Complex metaphors and gritty imagery.
Street themes that parade down neighborhoods giving us our own slice of Heaven in Hell,
I could relate to the intrinsic message imprinted in every verse
I could understand the concept the design.
Through music you spoke to me like a mother to a sobbing child
Hoping to alleviate the pressures and pains of this life
With a melodic symphony that remains engraved in my soul for eternity.
Hip Hop you are the antithesis of yourself.
Now when I gaze upon the remnants of what was
All that's left is the product without the soul,
The superficial part of the whole personified by
Big chains and even bigger egos
That's subject open ears and receptive minds to poison
To misogyny,
To flagrant obscenities that should be stamped with a censor bar around the mouths of Hip Hop's apostles,
That's not the Hip Hip that I knew.
You left the young inner city dreamers day dreaming on street corners
Mentally visualizing the days,
When those dead eyes sparked with vivacity and glowed promise,
Adolescents bee bopping and rocking to inspirational rhythmic monologues singing,
Whose world is this,
The world is yours, the world is yours.
Hands held tight to life-saving headphones that contain their sweet elixir
Overdosing on an audible drug used an exit to escape,
Jotting in a Mead notebook
Lines that extend past the margin,
Hoping to strike upon a million dollar verse
That'll turn those inner city rags to riches,
It was YOU Hip Hop that inspired those dreams
Those aspirations...
Well, at least the old you did.
I never knew the new you,
Who's too new school
Busy chasing the cool,
To be preoccupied with street dreams.
Or even with and 18 year old visionary expressing intricate contemplation's through spoken word.
I still harbor the the melodic symphony you engraved in my soul.
Through music you spoke to me,
So through music,
Come back to me.