discarded like trash to the pavement.
Bullets rips through the body
tearing the soul from its vessel,
another ghetto child is left fatherless.
To continue this vicious cycle,
the hero he looked up to is no more.
No one to teach him right from wrong,
it doesn’t matter how much she tries,
some mother’s just aren’t strong.
The street welcomes this child,
in its bosom it holds him close.
In his mind he thinks this is where he belongs,
no sense of direction he chooses wrong.
What he doesn’t understand is that the path he walks,
as an excruciating end .
Can’t blame his mother
she has tried.
A mind is made up to take revenge on the ones who took is fathers life,
and the cycle continues like pinning clothes out to dry.
While she prays for guidance,
Shots rang out in the distance.
Tears roll down her cheeks
as news of her lifeless child came from the phone.
A father’s gift to his child that is nothing but a curse,
for if he had stick around his son might not have ended up in a hearse.