Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.246

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

do you feel like a thug
don't you know the good die young
got your cap cocked to the side like you the only one
that lives in this village where they be toating guns
furious to believe that you've been wasting time
once you where a boy having tonka times
yesterday is gone because you carry two chrome nines
everytime you say good bye
wondering will this be the last time
she looks into her baby eyes
she despises the road you are willing to test
wishing his father was here to deal with this mess
because she is perplexed
by the seed that sprung in the mind of his son
to finish the work his pops left undone
heavily invovled in the trickery in the streets
got side tracked in the studio making swiss beats
adamant about your activity
staying swift on your feet
keeping one step ahead never embracing the heat
you marveled in the idea that you've never been put down
tipping hennessey to your brothers who are six feet under ground
odd to think your turn won't come soon
as we stare at the moon
the love is there-gave my soul to bare
when i pour it out- do you even care
I hope you do when the drama hit the fan
I'll be alone too
watching paramedics push air into your lungs
as the coroner gives the time of death saying
its a shame the good die so young

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required