My Life

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  • Passion

    My Life

    November 27, 1971 my mother gave birth to her first born son. I was left in the midst of the storm where the thieves vultures. With the odds stacked against me I was the misfit cause this life didn't fit. Saying be real or don't be cause out in these streets things aren't the way their supposed to be.
    Under the seats thugs pack furious heat. The devices, pull the trigger, peel the caps. Its nothing but wisdom is priceless. Lord give me the knowledge to write this, cause I hate evil, but I love living righteous. Bless me to speak the words to save their lives when theres nowhere to turn. Is it a lesson they didn't learn.
    Wicked plots and evil schemes, shattered lives and broken dreams. I feel sorrow for those that could fall tonight, soldiers that never made it to the light. I don't want to leave words unspoken. I got love for my brothers with bonds unbroken. Yet and still these guns stay smokin'.
    Its got me staring in the mirror at my face thinking of good times and people I could never replace. I know someday I to will die and I hope to see your face, but for now Lord I thank you for your love and all your grace.

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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