The Cry From a Ghetto's Heart | Page 32

Now-a Days

Lately, I have been home alone.

Not too many rings or texts on the phone.

No more group sessions of smoking a bone,

Just me home alone........

Into the booth and out,

There's not a doubt that I will be finished, one day......

No more games to play on the PS2 and 360.....

I hope they don't forget me......

But I am losing myself.....

A silent cry for help, dealing with the cards that were dealt....

I've been placed on a shelf that says "DON'T TOUCH!"

Walks to work, and conversations to myself,

Wondering if I need anyone else,

Or maybe radiation of hurtful ways, should only stay to myself.....

I know the pleasant-ful ways in me,

Still scarred by my childhood memories how no one would ever defend me.....

And now I am home alone.....

"Wish moms would pick up the phone, but that’s only a wish."

"Wish I could wake up some mornings to my daughter’s gentle kiss."

Sometimes just want to hear, "Aye daddy look at this!"

But my home is silent.........

Wish I could jump on a plane whenever I wanted to........

Maybe to see, you know who........

But the scars are just so god-damn deep, even me and her are through.......

Not for the best of me but for her,

How can so much damage occur, when I am just trying to love again.......?

Why do I have a shortage of friends......?

Why is it easy for some to sit and pretend,

It's like I never existed......

But the construction team is here to build that wall that they started........

I must practice; thorns from the cactus will ooze, out this evil.......

Saving my people can also save me,

This is how I will break free from personal thoughts,

Poetry, music, newspaper reports,

When I grace the stage once again, they'll feel the peek of my source,

Because I am practicing........