Brisk Walking

He came into this world holding nothing more than his hand high His voice sounded erupted upon the ceiling in a thunderous cry While every muscle tensed from his forehead to the bottom of his thigh This boy, soon the man,would experience what this world would deny All his trials turned tribulations,would make him stronger and wise As his walk upon this earth he would learn to disguise... The blooded hands he washed daily as he looked to the sky Often wondering and pondering why he couldn't trust anybody For all his loved ones were taken from his life really early For all the glory and honor and love he bestowed amongst others Nothing could replace the love he felt for his mother.... His hidden sadness only masked behind soiled hands and an unforgiving conscience Only liquor and "vitamins" made reality harder to pinch His way of running by hopping the interstate Too busy losing himself to look for a mate In his former life he probably would be a King's jester So sad,too far gone to see the joke in this here