feigned grace
like astronauts walking in space
except floating, paused
with a condition called death
stuck in a pose, staring at space
but there's nothing to see
the blank empty stare
a last imposition
no longer aware
of shadows or light
locked into position
a graduate of the life
in the art of dying
now just dying art
except the dying part
is a permanent start
it keeps on coming
never seems to finish
next up... another young kid
with the illusion of unlimited potential
a voice that's could have been
instrumental to replenish
the fast dying sense of community
not enough to be free anymore
cut-off, why?
Drugs/thugs/corrupt cops
supplying, guns, drugs
aren't indigenous
As cheap life comes
anything goes
is... this the set-up
wasit merely a plan from the man
to exterminate the brothers
from the hood
not for good
for bad and for worse
but first, give guns and drugs
full reign
cash rivers to be locked out of good
the bite of poisonous reptiles
no mistaken loyalty
no royalty in this game
kingpins of mortal sin
conductors on a train to hell
selling tickets to crack cocaine,
not the Cadillac of choice
just cheap thrills, guaranteed to kill
the livelihood, the family, the bills
Death by increments
black babies crying
people stoned out of their minds
flying, while never leaving the ground
going nowhere, except down...
around and around and around
going nowhere, Fast...
Call you flash...
feet never touching the ground
too fast, the crash...
got to get a quick fix
get back into the fix
feed the need
nothing else, provides the kick
that stomps you to death so much
quicker than cheap wine and bad liquor
who's next to be framed
in the game?
enclosed within
chalk lines
C2

