Raised in the gutter/ Dark clouds all over the place, raining tears down my face, my face would stutter, every time I gazed at the sculpture of systems infrastructure/// Before that when the time grew thin, I started seeing ruptures in the sculpture since the age of six that begged me to question it Yet I never mention it till this/ Why is it breaking down, why is this happening now, why is this man shooting another one down Why are the kids running around with drugs in town/ these questions led me to look at whose holding a crown around/ it’s The president and a regular pedestrian in town/ So I glance at the president residence and look around/ and I see Lucious ground blue skies money trees limousines and a stranger eyes that I don’t recognise/ and on the other side I see a pedestrian With guns in his holster and a child on one shoulder crack on the other that looks like a boulder/ concrete streets with thunder/ Putting both pictures together it appears as light and dark but which one is which which image sparked the other one to exist/ So dwelled deeper into a system saw empty wells of jobs for poor to drink like they in hell/ Saw a few full to the top for everyone but to never quench the thirst/ Saw the deprived look for light on the other side never to find the light and stay stuck on one side looking for that light with crack in mind just to spark the white for a bit of light/ Seen others use thirst as a drive with the only way being is to dry out the deprived even more with some white/ so their young can grow up nice/ but are they growing up right coz what they see might spark their life with fuel being same path that they tried to compromise with rich to not arise/ Know what divides Drugs murder grew into a culture from it coz there’s a rupture in the system infrastructure So I had to find some ways to make this butter sculpture