This person has never felt loved so he would rather be in jail where he feels at home. |
i was a baby in a paper bag my cries, kitten meows a trash man saved me miracle from God, he said my old lady's gone first cops then government people i been hidin lots of tears and loss i was forgotten too young to talk. my old lady didn't need a kid her first love was her next fix i was born with crack in my blood young for that taste, for the pipe that eases pain any booze bottle to get high, smokin crank down with chasing the dragon, even smelling gas in the tank nobody cared, feeling forgotten. one foster man beat me with a metal pipe. teachin me wrong from right dropped outta school- had to work. left number five stone cold home for a filthy abandoned building. my homeboys were my blood. live by the gun die by the gun. we sold anything that anybody wanted guns, ID, drugs i am forgotten but it is all right. i have come full circle, from trash can to wood palette the smell has not changed garbage is garbage. have 5-10 for armed robbery possession of a controlled substance was born with drug in my body a love tie to my own mother. have a cot, blanket, food, books a shank to protect me. safer than a kid put in a foster home. other brothers are friends I have a rep and can score drugs. I am not forgotten. I belong. |