Haven't wrote in a while.. well not on here anyway. Thought I'd write something to express myself at this point in my life.
Soon-To-Be
Everything I feared as a child..
The reason I am who I was meant to be
The seed of a father that had no heart
That chose drugs over his own flesh and blood.
Soon-To-Be
The man I wished would tell me "Its ok. Go play".
Cold days would cause this spasmatic stutter
Like "wha wha why did he go.. duh does he love us?"
As we would hug eachother just me and my brothers
My mother left broken with her soul closing it's shutters
Left in the gutter with no one to love her.
Soon-To-Be
The man I wasn't afraid to call my family
That handed me love in baskets I couldn't lift
So heavy with anything but drugs and lost kids
And alcohol in a rugged, rage filled, bottled fist
Leaving us to assume it's our fault like we told him to go
Him holding our soul inbetween his fingers
Knowing the danger of becoming that lonely stranger
Soon-To-Be
The reason my child can't understand this poem.
Because from the womb to the hospital room
I will be too obsessed with caressing my blessing
And constantly stressing my uncondional love to you
True beyond means of the definition of truth
And never leaving without letting you know I'll be back
And it's not your fault that I'll EVER be lost or off track
Everything I ever hoped or resumed to dream
Will be awaiting your life.. or soon-to-be.
Soon-To-Be
Everything I feared as a child..
The reason I am who I was meant to be
The seed of a father that had no heart
That chose drugs over his own flesh and blood.
Soon-To-Be
The man I wished would tell me "Its ok. Go play".
Cold days would cause this spasmatic stutter
Like "wha wha why did he go.. duh does he love us?"
As we would hug eachother just me and my brothers
My mother left broken with her soul closing it's shutters
Left in the gutter with no one to love her.
Soon-To-Be
The man I wasn't afraid to call my family
That handed me love in baskets I couldn't lift
So heavy with anything but drugs and lost kids
And alcohol in a rugged, rage filled, bottled fist
Leaving us to assume it's our fault like we told him to go
Him holding our soul inbetween his fingers
Knowing the danger of becoming that lonely stranger
Soon-To-Be
The reason my child can't understand this poem.
Because from the womb to the hospital room
I will be too obsessed with caressing my blessing
And constantly stressing my uncondional love to you
True beyond means of the definition of truth
And never leaving without letting you know I'll be back
And it's not your fault that I'll EVER be lost or off track
Everything I ever hoped or resumed to dream
Will be awaiting your life.. or soon-to-be.


