In the recesses of my intellect
I possess all the changing seasons
The fallen leaves
Yesterdays memories
The gold mine of ignorance and naivety
The idea that out there in the expanse exists a far off potential
A potential I could grasp
A potential that was attainable despite the perils of my upbringing  
The fragility of those days gone by
Have become myths and stories in my own mind
Held together with the weary tape of an abused mentality
Due to the inertia and desire to remember how life was...

I'm mesmerized by what happened to the potentiality of our lives
And how it became comprised by complacency
Lazily dreamers egos age like worn clothes
Enclosed with institutionalized ethos where growth begins and ends with the inerrancy and arrogance of the ghetto