Ryan Ngala’s Poems™

Ryan Ngala’s Poems™ | STN® Poetry™ Proudly Presents... Ms. Wendy Ngala Poem Edited, Recited, Typed & Written  By  Mr. Ryan Ngala Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN®  Poetry ™ Her name is Ms. Wendy Ngala, My favorite sister of the year, Who's destine to become victorious, In every area of New York City. Who clears through the entrance, Throughout the five boroughs in all of Harlem, I'll always give her $5 or $10 dollars of my own money, So she can go get herself something to eat. Who I always put her to sleep, In her favorite blanket, Ms. Wendy the lovely or the most beautiful, It's what my Mom will always called her to be, At least that's who I even respect her even more. Whenever it comes to her, Helping me or even my brother Abel, Washing my clothes every weekend at the Laundromat, She will always comes and seek us for guidance, In anyway that she likes. Who is always so cranky, But never yet so sloppy, Who desires everything that she wants, But at...

Mr. Abel Ngala Poem Edited, Recited, Typed & Written By  Mr. Ryan Ngala Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN® Poetry™ My brother is one of the coolest person, That I consider him to become as my number one helper, Who will always want to work hard, And maybe one day he's going to go far. And will always want to do better in school, Not to stare into space, Acting like a fool, Unlike he use to. My Mom will always pushed him, To tried his very hardest to succeed, As he always goes to class, And be on time just to learn & read. Whatever obstacle or path he choose, At least he ain't got nothing else to lose, At least we are the ones who's going to become far, Because he shines just like the brightest star. He is always so active, And who always considers to play basketball, With his school buddies, But also decides to follow his own footsteps, In any obstacle that he choose from now on. Copyright © 2008 - 2020 ...

The Jesus Within Me (No One) Edited, Recited, Typed & Written By Mr. Ryan Ngala Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN®  Poetry ™ I see the Jesus within me, The one who created me, The one who strengthens me, The one who believes in me for what, I'm hoping & dreaming for. For all young boys & girls, Who believes in him from their heart, Right from the very start. And no one starts to get angry, For that's for the work of the devil, That the Satin is Planning. So don't get mad, As we pray, For what Jesus Christ who has help us to become as a, Happy Christian people we really are today.

The Next King Of Poetry  Poem Edited, Recited, Typed & Written By Mr. Ryan Ngala Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN®  Poetry ™ RyanNgalasPoemsOfficial.Blogspot.com  |  STNPoetryOfficial.Blogspot.com I write to recite, That is my blog motto, All I really need, Is a pencil and something to write with. And watch how my, Rhymes flow so fluently, I got so many thoughts, Jotted down in my brain. I have all my social media fans, Right beside me, As I start to write each different subject, To become my number one favorite poem in the whole wide world. Ryan the best writer, My sister Wendy the best editor, If I had a poetry book, It will become the number one, New York Times Best seller.

Edited, Recited, Typed & Written  By Mr. Ryan Ngala Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN® Poetry™ My Momma, Told Me, To never talk, To strangers. As these homeless beggers, Will be asking us for money, But don't give us anything in return. My Momma told me, To keep on hustling, And finding a job. For a maximum minimum wage paid, And that someday, I'm going to become, Filthy rich one day. To always wake up, My siblings early, And also brushing My teeth daily. My momma, Was also very Young and educated. She was born in Nigeria, Came to America To raise us like grown up kids, We are today. My Momma told me, To study and work hard, Just to stay focus and pay attention, But just to listen on, What she has to say. From oldest to youngest, As the next generations Of super smart rich kids, We were destine to become to be.

Edited, Recited, Typed & Written  By Mr. Ryan Ngala Ryan Ngala’s Poems™ | STN® Poetry™ RyanNgalasPoemsOfficial.Blogspot.com | STNPoetryOfficial.Blogspot.com Is it by the way they walk, Or by the way they talk dirty, To dem boys, As they flirt on 'Em, Having them listening to their favorite jam song of the day, Courtesy of R. Kelly. What Is It?, Is it by the way they, Whip their hair, Back and Forth, Courtesy of Willow, herself, Just to show 'em how, Much their really worth. And let 'Em know who, The baddest boss really is, These chicks will be, So flossy. So stylish, So cute, And all so very pretty, Destine to be victorious, In every area of New York City. What Is It?, Is it by the way, Dem lip gloss will be popping, As they step on to the scene, Looking so fresh as hell, As they step into the movie screen, Yah, mean.

Edited, Recited, Typed & Written  By  Mr. Ryan Ngala Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN® Poetry™ I'am a lonely boy, Back when I was in high school, When bullies punch me, Some people, Think I'am stupid. Some people, Think I'm dumb, They will otherwise, Start a fight, Make a riot. Then wanting, To talk some, Bulls**t behind their back, And I sure as hell, Don't want that.

Edited, Recited, Typed & Written By  Mr. Ryan Ngala Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN®  Poetry ™ RyanNgalasPoemsOfficial.Blogspot.com  |  STNPoetryOfficial.Blogspot.com The way that I’m getting money, Is so simple, Fast and easy, Money doesn't grow on trees. That’s a false statement to me, It’s the fact that, I’m collecting bottles and cans. As I’m hustling for the paper, I will make whatever I have, To make $5 or $10 dollars, In anyway that I like, And save the change for later. It’s a pretty sweet idea, So once I become smart with my money, I should spend it more wisely, Even better.

Edited, Recited, Typed & Written By Mr. Ryan Ngala                      Ryan Ngala’s Poems™ | STN® Poetry™ I'll always have a focus mind, The things that I'll do, Will keep me concentrated, Never to keep me distracted. As I start looking for a job, That best interest me, In any career necessary, I will always stay persistent, In doing whatever I have to do, To have a bigger and a brighter future, Way ahead of me. For today and tomorrow, As the day comes by, I thank both for Ms. Diana Cruz and Mr. Cory B. For always guiding, And showing me, The right way, Including God the almighty, Cause he will always have my back.

Edited, Recited, Typed & Written  By  Mr. Ryan Ngala Ryan Ngala’s Poems™ | STN® Poetry™ It was back then, When I was still, In A. Philip Randolph Campus High School, All the girls look so fresh to death. Because they dress, So professional, The type of chick, That everybody, Wanna be their ride or die for, Or wanna holler at them. But It was at that point, On my mind, What I can do, To make a chick. Want to impress, A fly cool dude like me, So I started, Wanting to write some poetry. Started to sing like Floetry, In at any moment or an hour later, All the fly ladies and the fellas, From Harlem Children's Zone's College Success Office & Employment & Technology Center, Started to watch, My poem performance, Only exclusively On YouTube.com/RyanNgalasPoems . It was that then, They notice how talented, I really was, From the very beginning. Dem fly rich girls, Who'll be on the cover, Of the New York Times, Or Vogue Magazi...

If You Ain't About Your Paper Poem, Part 2 Edited, Recited, Typed & Written By Mr. Ryan Ngala & Ms. Wendy Ngala Ryan Ngala’s Poems™ | STN® Poetry™ RyanNgalasPoemsOfficial.Blogspot.com  |  STNPoetryOfficial.Blogspot.com Verse 2: If you ain’t about your paper, Then don’t come to me, With your hands, Wide open begging me or us for a quarter. Because we will be making, Billions, Millions, Trillions Or Thousands of dollars a year, While you broke mother fuckers yourself, Don’t get nothing. You ain’t even, Worth nothing  to me hoe, Like Chris Breezy told me, These hoes ain’t loyal to me. At least the people who look broke, Don’t even have the common sense, To even make their own money, By themselves, By collecting bottles and cans. But instead, I’m making all of this bread, By myself, Without no one’s help. But with someone to guide me, It’s so funny to me, That we don’t owe them, Much of anything. Copyright © 2008 - 2020 Ryan Ngala’s Poems™ | STN...

Edited, Recited, Typed & Written By Mr. Ryan Ngala Ryan Ngala’s Poems™ | STN® Poetry™ RyanNgalasPoemsOfficial.Blogspot.com  |  STNPoetryOfficial.Blogspot.com There’s no other word, To describe your perfection, You dress to impress, For all the boys Who stare at ya. Keep on smiling, And posting pic’s, Of ya bad self, I like the way you look, Now go strike a pose that, You just took. To put it as a profile, Picture on Facebook, Them divas haters will be hating, Cause they ain’t styling as hard as you. You have a passion for fashion, In every aspect of your creativity, Right in front of you, You look like one of them fashion models, Who styles on project runway, And keep on stunning with them shades on all day long. So keep on balling, Keep stunning, In any way that you like, Go get yourself, A Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Prada, Dolce & Gabbana. And a couple of Chanel bags, Because to me, You’re beautiful, ...

If You Ain't About Your Paper Poem Edited, Recited, Typed & Written By Mr. Ryan Ngala & Ms. Wendy Ngala Ryan Ngala’s Poems™ | STN® Poetry™ RyanNgalasPoemsOfficial.Blogspot.com  |  STNPoetryOfficial.Blogspot.com Verse 1: If you ain't about your paper, Then honestly, They ain't worth nothing to me, These broke mother fuckers will be, Begging us for a got damn quarter. But they ain't, All about the dollars, At least I find that sh*t, So annoying sometimes. One man once, Came and approach to me, He asked me for, A spare quarter. But what will that be, All worth for and why?, So then I told him,  "You know what Na". At least he couldn't used his, Fucking common sense, Just to pick up, Five bottles and go make it, His got damn self. But instead he choose,  To have someone else, Like me to do his dirty work, For him, And I'm like, What The Fuck?. So I went about my business, But these broke mother fuckers, W...

Edited, Recited, Typed & Written By Mr. Ryan Ngala Ryan Ngala’s Poems™ | STN® Poetry™ RyanNgalasPoemsOfficial.Blogspot.com  |  STNPoetryOfficial.Blogspot.com  When I was up on the 5th floor, Waiting to use the bathroom @ C.S.O, I heard the door, Started to open once more. I saw Ms. Christa Miller, Wanting to step out, That’s when she started, To get jumping and hollering out, “Oh Sh*t!!!”. Her heart went beating at, A faster pace, As if she had just saw a ghost. Wanting to come and apologize, But it was no worries for her, It was at that point of my mind, I just sit back and thought to myself. I just started to realize,  She all acted, So surprise to come and see me, And that’s no lie.