Work of art..

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I looked im in the eye as he did the same. He began to fondle me and kiss my neck. ''Ray, stop.'' I whispered. He looked at me. ''I have dreams, and having a kid at my age is not in it. I'm only here for a month then I'm leaving town. Please, I'm not up for this.'' I told him. ''I understand. Like Tupac said. ''Please tease me. I don't want it if its easy.'' I smiled. ''Yea, my dad was the best.'' I said in a soft tne. His head turned to mines. ''What?'' He asked.

Oh shit. ''Nothing'' I smiled. ''I'm sleep.'' I said pulling myself under the covers.'' Oh no you don't'' He said pulling them off of me. ''If you are staying in my house, I need to get to know you. No strangers in my bed.'' he told me. ''Well. You ask me questions.'' I told him sitting up.

''Well. Are you going to continue drug dealing?'' He ask me. ''No, I won't'' I said. He hugged me. ''I lost my ma to the streets. I don't need to loose anyone else.'' He spoke. I gave him a small smile. ''Um..'' He started again. ''So tell me, what are you planning to do after you leave here?'' He asked. I thought for a second. Well, my dad left me millions, that would be to hard to find something to do. 

''I'll find work to support me, if thats what you are thinking.'' I can't just go. My dad Tupac left me millions Now can I? ''Oh, ok.'' he spoke looking at his feet. ''I wanna be a rapper.'' I told him. He head shot up. ''Well, Let me hear you rap!'' He asked. ''Whaa? Noooo!'' i yelled getting up and running around the room. He chased me down and pined me to the floor. ''You have the most beautiful eyes.'' He told me. ''Get off of me! You are cutting of my breathing!'' I yelled at him as he rolled off of my body. 

''Now rap!'' He said sitting on the floor. '' Free Style?'' I asked. ''What ever, as long as its original.''  ''But I can't free style!'' I said. He gave me the WTF look. ''But I can write poetry on the spot!'' I told him. ''Poety? Really?'' He looked at me. ''Rap is Poetry. The King of Rap Tupac Shakur said it him self!'' I said laughing. ''Ok then, write your poem!''

I closed my eyes and began to open my heart..

You made many creations, but was I your favorite? 

I never met you, Lord knows I hate it.

All I wanna do is make you proud, please the crowd.

Your arms around me make me fell safe it sound.

Until the end of time I search but can not find.

The ''Upper cut man.'' Who preached Ghetto Gospel.

The man who expressed his pain and gave the world pleasure.

The man who made many creations, and I am  one.

My father who never had a son. 

Ray looked at me. ''Thats deep! How did you come up with it? I could feel the pain in the way you talked.'' He said. ''Its about my Dad. He made many things but he never seen the results of them all. '' I told him.''

There was a loud knock at the door.

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 Hello! Sorry I haven't updated in like 2 weeks. Since its a 3 day Weekend I will update this and Colors of the wind 2 :)

I have a suprize I will be announcing soon, stay tuned! 

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