The Son

Whoa mommy Oh where's daddy? Am i the only son? I guess he became A ghost After conserving me, Destined to be in the dark Formulated obstacles and schedules. And my guardian a widow! Family life nothing but hard love, Its tough being black and blue... Everyday a struggle so i sold that white To soulless mortals, in the alleyways And no lighthouses just legions owning houses, generals and armies The gangs of the streets: hell or something, no angels: no agents and federals! No blue and red lights just bangs, Another brother gone: A timeline and a memory! There was no pendulum swing on that reality, no science: no time for reasoning! Its either you believed or you feared. And that was the past; The before and after I was born, I'm an inch and a dream away from reaching the peek: the cross road before the "warehouse" under the bridge... Now I wear a white T shirt and a beanie; Enjoying life and life so easy! And I'm standing on top of the skyscraper... No more grimes and reapers Friends waving across the streets And I use my binoculars to see them.