Wednesday, December 3, 2014
Soldiers of Misfortune by A.S. Washington
Upon the grey concrete they stand,
Bold -- unmoved by the fear of death,
Few hardships can they not withstand,
For in the streets they become adept.
Knowledgeable of the shortness of life,
Every moment, hanging on the brink of destruction,
Seeds of missing fathers, students of strife,
Aware of all the governmental corruptions.
Few chose the path, forced into violence,
Forged in the crucible of struggle,
From broken homes they come, surely misguided,
Finding justice is through the blast of a muzzle.
They make us smile, they love us,
Fatherless boys, teaching fatherless boys,
What little they know, in this hard knock life,
Stand tall, be the "real," - McCoy.
We emulate and adore them,
Their style and their speech,
We weep for them, it's deep,
The only place they could truly have peace,
Since, destiny was unkind,
And the system supplies no relief,
Pour out liquor repeat,
One love to the Gs,
Blood in, blood out,
On the cold concrete.
The cycle wont cease,
They'll be war in the streets.
Hope for peace, we must, for a semblance, a portion,
Forever rest in peace, soldiers of misfortune.
America of Mine