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A CHILDHOOD COVERED IN MISERY AND NEGLECT...

SUBJECT OF THE PROJECTS AND ABANDONDMENT...

LEFT A NIGGA STRANDED IN THE HANDS OF THE STREET...

COLD AND WEARY...

A VISIONARY OF FIERY BAPTISMS...

TRYING  TO DECIPHER THE FUCKIN PAINS OF REALISM...

INCARCERATED IN PRISONS SET TO KILL HIM...

JUST TRY AND ENVISION...

A NIGGA'S LIFE HUNG AT THE ROPES OF SOCIETY...

AND ALL THE TIME THEY'RE LYING TO HIM...

NOT EVEN TRYING TO SEE THROUGH THE SLUMMED MINDS OF THE YOUTH...

DENYING HIM THE TRUTH HE'S PURSUED FOR SO LONG...

HIS TEARS ARE FALLING UPON DEAF EARS,

AND HIS FEARS ARE PROLONGED TO TOMORROW,

BUT WHO'S PROMISED TODAY?

JUST CAPTURE A GLIMPSE OF HIS WAYS,

AND SEE WHY HE IS THE WAY THAT HE IS...

HEARTLESS, AND FILLED WITH REMORSELESS ACTIONS...

ASS BEAT, BATTERED, AND BUSTED...

IN THE POLICE HE NEVER TRUSTED...

THEY'RE JUST AS CROOKED AS HIM ON A SCHEME TO FEED HIS SEED,

AND EAT FOR SELF...

HIS HEALTH IS IN JEOPARDY,

AND HIS WEALTH IS NEGLECTED...

UNPROTECTED BY THE LAW...

SO IN HIS OWN HANDS HE SAW...

THE DURATION OF HIS LIFE SPAN...

ABOUT AS LONG AS AN EPISODE OF A RE-RUN OF C-SPAN...

FORCED TO COMMENCE TO ARM ROBBERIES AND BURGLARIES...

"YOU'RE FUCKIN HURTING ME!..."

HE'S SCREAMING,

BUT HIS PAIN IS A SILOUETTE ONLY SEEN BY HIS OWN DEMONS...

DREAMING OF A WAY OUT THROUGH THE BARREL OF A SAWED-OFF...

HE'S GONE OFF THE BOTTLE...

CHOKING FROM ALL THE SMOKE HE'S SWALLOWING...

FOLLOWING HIS MIND OF SUICIDAL INTENTIONS...

HOPING TO PREVENT THE PAIN,

AND HIS FUCKIN MISERY INTENSITY...

FROM RISING...

IT'S DRIVING HIM INSANE...

HE'S ONLY IN SYNC WITH THE REMAINS

OF SCARRED MEMORIES IN HIS BRAIN...

SO ALONE AND COLD,

HE CAN'T EVEN CONTROL HIS OWN MIND...

HE'S CRYING AND SHIVERING...

SPINE TREMBLING...

MIND SPINNING...

TWITCHING HIS FINGERS...

TRIGGER'S ITCHING TO BE PULLED...

AND HE FIGURES...

ALL OF THIS BULL-SHIT WOULD BE GONE WITH JUST ONE BULLET...

CLUTCHING THE TRIGGER TIGHT...

NO TIME FOR FROST-BITES...

AND BUTTERFLIES...

EYES CLOSED, EXPOSED TO COMPLETE DARKNESS...

FINGERS PROCEED WITH NO CAUTION...

OR WARNING...

IN THREE SECONDS TILL' MORNING...

HE'S GONE AND...

WHAT REMAINS IS A MEMORY

OF A SUICIDAL SUSPECT...

SUBJECT OF THE PROJECTS...

AND A CHILDHOOD NOW COVERED IN BLOOD AND MISERY...





Tha Prodigal One...