When we were kids,
music was our only war.
Shooting fire using lyrics
with a stereo on the floor.
But life changes within an instant,
as our 'brothers' would walk away.
Forgotten names seem so distant
as they pour gasoline in the flames.
And as the fires of our childhood exhales smoke,
Elementary school becomes Southern University.
we sit in our apartment; as an ending, we cope-
and our desire for a future keeps strongly burning.
Growing up,
we were the welcoming committee.
shaking hands with tourists happily,
painted smiles, oh so committing;
as the pickpockets kept happening.
First day of school is always easiest;
sand crackling under our black boots.
Heads held high; headstrong reasons;
a mindset dreads over wasting youth.
Here to serve and protect the confused,
because these people don't see freedom.
So used to starving in the midst of abuse
that we appear as enforcers for treason.
All grownup,
and just as nerves seem strained,
the scenery in this new land spews.
A lot like a bleeding picture frame;
a dying society is all but old news.
America is here to help, right?
A little hard with this on the mind!
But it seems we have new visuals,
for nightmares we already envision.
First murder; and today, starvation;
in the end, it isn't worth a mention.
What was once held high, now falls low,
this head of mine travels south in gloom.
attempts at erasing only inks through...
as my mind scratches at disgusts tomb.
Why today,
did I have to lose everyone?
Explosions drifted from above
the results seem to vary none
today; I left EVERYONE I love.
As I lay here, throbbing into flow
bullets in my heart; miles of pain
which was lost only seconds ago
when they cleaned the blood from my veins.
This is the way a man dies
with the only family I have
surrounding me: teary eyed
the only souls I will snatch.
And when we were kids,
we'd only play with war.
Acting to die, killing men...
it's no fun actually living it.
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