He Was a Good Kid

Written by: Kyle kriticos

His childhood was volatile 
Every morning violence was his alarm clock
And every night he fell asleep 
To the lullaby of screaming voices
To the symphony of anger and broken glass

But he was a good kid

When the streets became his parents
The criminals became his brothers
He grew accustomed to a rugged lifestyle
Never safe, never steady
In places where others would quiver with fear
He smiled and laughed

He never had the money to play sports
Or a chance in hell to go to college
He never had a family outing
Or even a decent homecooked meal
And they wondered why there were drugs in his pocket
And they wondered why there was blood on his boots

In a holding cell, he could relax
In prison, he was at home
He smashed peoples faces as if he were watering flowers
He painted the floors red like his fury was artwork
But his conscience was very much alive
Because he was a good kid

Nobody taught him leadership, but he always changed rules that were unfair
Nobody taught him loyalty, but he could always be trusted
Nobody taught him to be kind, but he was thoughtful and caring
Nobody nourished his morality, but he protected the weak

If you could look through the prison orange he wore
If you could see the blood and tears that paved his road
If you could watch his flashbacks
If you could look inside his soul
And see the honest heart that beats inside his chest 
You would say:
This man is innocent
Let him go

By Kyle Ezra Kriticos