Born into this world a victim of society
already judged but unable to walk.
Labeled as a hoodlum because he comes from the ghetto
society states he's America's child lost.
Raised by a single parent in this corrupt world
a struggle through the changes of life;.
No extra push or guidance form a friend
but God was first in his life.
Growing up was difficult in this unjust world,
violence and drugs surrounded him it was the only life he knew.
He fell into a hole of dark destruction but somehow
God brought him through.
Eventhough the light of God shined on him
the message still wasn't getting through,
that the roads he was taking and the life he was making
would leave everyone feeling blue.
Not sad because he might be dead or under the jail
Sad because his mother strived
to give her son the world,
to unlist him as a victim of society
but instead he fell into the everyday stereotype of
another one of America's young lost black men.
My brothers please stop the violence, us sistas are losing a lot of good men to senseless violence
words to live by: The past is history, the future a mystery this very moment a gift that is why they call it the present.
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