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Social injustices can affect so many
A hand to grasp to hide & hold
Set on fire to its oratory fragrance...
The streets were fought for territorial rights;
Out of negotiations with a long line of strife
The gangs outside were very mean & controlling,
Their territory was grueling etched in a barrage of discomfort....
Isn't it a pity that you hate the city;
With lines drawn in the sand some poles very shifty...
A novice may use quite a gentle approach;
An emotional conflict can result in fear, guilt & shame,
Guilt & shame need to be overcome by the grace of God,
Throughout its beckoning call toward inevitable service,
Many years of growing up in the streets;
Phat rims & image keeping fades,
Jose was a long way off on that day...
The city kids were out for a fight that night,
With clearer heads having prevailed,
Some have often found themselves lying in a sewer;
Just waiting for another episode toward that in manuever,
Jose was quick to draw his nine that day
Perhaps it was the bad blood that took him from behind ?
All alone with my silver spoon exposed to its elements;
Shadows proned to turn in the corner of my room
Fastened by the imaginations in my head
Wake up dead!
Yet in mere solace what matters most?
Like a lost seagull flying off the coast;
Try as you may the other way,
Bridges are being burned having tables now being turned;
In solemn mast of rhetoric demise
Yet a word to the wise;
From darkness to light yet never giving up on the fight;
A tug at the heart will light the spark to what it is we have been waiting for...
Since creation unfolds a story that's being sold
Vibrant eyes turned to gold
As in a variation of a dream sorted through its sifted after glow exposed!
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