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.
Copyright © Piercing Words | Year Posted 2019
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