Girl found dead
That’s what the article in a newspaper said
Her name was spoken word
Sources told me spoken word was dead
She was last seen at a club
When a fight broke out
She got hurt after a show
Tickets were sold out
It was cold out one night
At this open mic venue
I was doing a show
I couldn’t make it, but I wanted to see you
I love you
Those were the last words I told her
I wrote her a letter the next morning
Then I heard the bad news that made me upset this morning
I remember her from junior high school back in the 7th grade
The school teacher made me write a poem
It took me 7 days to write this piece
My task was to perform this piece in front of the class
I asked the teacher if I could go last
She looked at me and laughed
And told me to go before the class
My words spoke to the crowd
Even the ones with their heads down
A couple of stanzas later
I wrote more on paper
There were a few haters that thought we weren’t made for each other
Despite the obstacles, we stayed with each other
Even laid under the covers writing deep thoughts
She brought the artistic freak out of me when she talks erotic to me
There were days when we touched on different topics
such as religion and politics
She was a lover and an activist
I spoke my mind through her
Did I knew her?
Yeah, I screwed her in a chair and on the couch
Drinking mocha and green tea
Now, I see her on T.V. commercials and documentaries
of the African struggle
She came from a family of poets
Langston Hughes, Maya Angelou, Shakespeare
I don’t know if her family knows this
but I fell in love with her when I wrote this
Particular poem about society
Her love lives inside of me
Why did they have to kill her?
My sources told me it had something to do with the economy
The bartenders and the club owners weren’t getting any money
Plus, the city wanted to turn it into a store or a strip club called honey
Funny, yet sad
of how she didn’t get any recognition
Some people wanted her fans to listen to dumb down music
that the companies are making millions from
So, the question is who killed her?
Someone told me it was him or it was her
Whoever it was didn’t have respect or love for her
But I respected her work
Sometimes, she even took me to church
and preached to me when I couldn’t see
Passed the adversities and the hurt
Life buried her in the dirt with the other fallen angels
A graveyard of poets where each star is spangled
My peers told me to hang on
She will come back to America
I once saw a ghostly image of her on Black in America
She was so taller than the Statue of Liberty
You can call her from the sky
as she touches you with her statue of tranquility
I admit she made me quit doing foolish stuff
I guess this is what happens when two fools fall in love
As I recalled I love the words she said until I found out
spoken word was dead.

Credits: Written and Produced by Sean Garvey