Street Chic. Anthony Whyte
Table of Contents
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Who you be?
Met this two headed whore in midtown
For skins, paid price, strapped up, tore it down
One head on my jewels, the other sucking
Working below stress, she wanted more
I’m wisdom, mention me next time.
“He who knows and knows he knows not;
He is simple—teach him.”
I dismissed her come on as yap.
Others left chains and rings for less
Diamonds and pearls served rich men
“Shut your gap. Knowledge is power.”
Was this trapping of my education?
“He who knows not and knows not
He knows not; he is a fool—shun him.”
“At thirty, man suspects himself a fool;
Knows it at forty and reforms his plan;
At fifty chides his infamous delay
Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve;
In all the magnanimity of thought
Resolves; and re-resolves; then dies the same.”
I laid Edward Young, Night Thoughts on her
“He who knows and knows not he knows;
He is asleep—wake him.”
Walking proudly, left a tip on her stand
Lost in the trap, she hurled what I’d given
Failing to understand, calling my offering
Nothing more than chump change
Accusing me of bringing false blessing
“He who knows and knows he knows;
He is wise—follow him.”
Prologue
Claire smiled when she saw the way the swarm of police scrambled for cover. Dodging and ducking from the tremendous firepower coming from the shotguns in her possession. She fired again and again from her perch in the iron-sealed old abandoned warehouse. Claire felt power building in her mind. The same power she felt when she was running the park. She thought she had lost it. Watching her adversaries retreat confirmed what she felt. Claire never wanted to ever relinquish that feeling. She smirked, nodding and waiting. A stretch of calm followed the barrage. The police moved into strategic position, but were unable to completely surround the entire building. Parts of it had disappeared below ground.
The police were tactically retreating with complete realization that shots were coming from only one side of the warehouse. Realizing that the girls were outnumbered and outgunned, the police opened fire and unleashed heavy artillery. The loud sounds of explosion crashed into what had been the silence of the uneasy, but temporary cease-fire. Squads of trained police teams moved in on the warehouse, firing powerful caliber weapons. The resulting explosions spread around the girls like wildfire. They could see that the sun was beginning to set.
“A fine pickle we’re in, big sis,” Candace said, loading her weapons.
“Are you giving me the sad song, Candy?” Claire asked with sarcasm. She watched Candace clutching the weapons. “How’s it?” she asked.
“We’re running out of ammo,” Candace answered.
“I