The Game of Life

Somewhere down the block,
there's a boy gettin' shot,
and shots of heroine is injected in an arm down the block.
They're overdosing themselfs, because that's all that they got.
They got no family that loves them because they're busy smoking blocks.
Blocks of marijuana somewhere so they're busy breaking locks.
Locked up brains, secluded, intruders like the boiling pot.
Plotting their way for invasion,crept through, that's why that boy is getting shot.

You see,
it's hard in this world.
People can't figure out who they are,
or what they're worth.
It's hard because not even God owns this Earth.

This world plays tricks with your mind.
It gives you infinit stabs from behind.
Got teachers saying "Quit you illit, stop trying!"
So, now we got little kids throats slit, then dying!

It's like...
This life I'm living
is worst than this price I'm giving.
He's walking on hot stones, and already twice I've tripping.
Since a little kid, I always had this perfect vision
on life, but I kept on making the wrong decisions.
If no change, I'll end up spending his life in prison.
I prays for one thing,
just that the lord forgives my sins.

But it seems like no matter what I do,
this is where I live,
where 15 year old girls are screaming at thier kids,
where hustlas keep rolling dice and making bigger bids,
where criminals keep stacking up their homicidal list.
When the hell will we stop all of this?

The one thing I always knew was that,
life is hard,
and innocent people get charged
on murder,
you tryin' hard
to put the pieces together,
but all you have is a shard.
You're tryna build a sand castle in stormy weather.
Past memories on words and phrases which were told to you,
like never say never.
Didn't that person realize
that they just said "never" twice?
I hate contradictions.
Parents making false predictions.
All that "Happily ever after" crap is fiction!
The truth that life ain't beautiful,
but then again is it.

I love looking at the simple things in life,
like a feather falling from the sky.
The little things that you can describe,
like how when you try to catch it,
it almost feels like magic
is tryna keep
it away.
"Why can't you just stay?"
Let me rock you to sleep,
in my hand, you can lay.

My life is very bumpy,
nah, matter fact I have San Fransisco hills.
Collectin' pennies, nickels, and dimes just tryna make a single bill.
Yes, I grew up with a rough past,
had my friends force into my hands a gun.
While your child grew up in a great school,
with role-model parents,
yet I bet I still know more than your son.
Yes, I speak different, with the accent that we all have in the bronx.
People have critisized me for it,
not by throwin' sticks or stones,
but it was more like big rocks which broke my bones.
No matter what, my attitude will stay positive,
this will not ruin my future plans,
because in time my bones will heal,
and I've got nothing but time on my hands.
My life will not shatter into pieces for some little stupid reason.
The end of my precious life is far away,
because my life has only begun.

That's why I'm telling you right now,
no body can make or break me,
because to people like me, risks with these high stakes are safety.
I might be a little fat, but you best believe that you can't shake me.
I look at the world different, because I've been very descriptive lately.
I can look into a picture and see the hurt people behind the wall,
and see a new born baby, and see how he will stand so tall,
and look into a puppies eyes, and see how it's not scared at all.

My life has been ramed into the ground.
Everyone has ups and downs,
yet all I have is downs.
Constantly everybody keeps tellin' me,
that all I'll ever be is a clown.
Look into the clown's faces.
Those frowns are permanant,
they're not painted,
but there's this one thing that keeps us clowns going and going.

Just look at the sparkle in our eyes,
they're there just glowing,
and my ambition for this poetry has just been growing.
C'mon, if you got talent, just show it.
I'm telling you, don't think about it, just know it.
Stop second-guessing your talent of a poet.
Treat it like your first time on stage, don't blow it.
It be like battling for that "Numba one spot"
Drop that negitivity like them girls just "Drops it like it's hott!"
Keep your head up,
just work with what you got.

You got to work with what you got,
because nothing was ever handed to me.
Never white lies, always full blown truth, because
my parents never told me bout Santa Claus.
Even if they would've got caught
in their own lie.
I never woke up Christmas morning,
cause there was never surprises.
There was never much to expect.

I've been through the times of the worst,
the times of the best.
I don't stay fly or fresh,
but true from head to toe
till the day I rest.
Everyday my life hands me a new test.
Nowhere as simple as the SAT's,
the citywide.
This is heartfelt, and mind widening.
This is the test of life.

Ya kids always complain about your school,
your homework, and ya little bullies.
Has anyone ever had themselves as their own bully?
My face is scratched.
My arms and body are bruised.
My wrists are slit,
bleeding down to the paper.
My pen is bloody,
because my fingertips are bursting open with all
my lies, my lines, my fears,
my sweat, my cries, and my held in tears.
I'm trying so hard to be a man,
but the harder I try,
the more I can't.
I can't see anything anymore.
No more things can be seen through my eyes.
Nothing is clear.

Life is filled with ups and downs.
Filled with at least one major sacrifice.
I guess everything ain't that simple anymore, right now,
when your playing the "Game of Life"