A stab for a word.
A shot in the dark.
We die for a look
trying to justify who we are.

With this incantation
this formula;
Action.
Reaction.

Let me choose my faction
Contradict this faith
Cause no one's contributing
To my collection plate

Imbued by escapades,
that gifted
my man,
his hood.

Protecting my pride
Portraying my promises
Pure or profane
For pleasures and pains

Pushed by pixels.  
Saline soaked tissues.
Rent, rats, respect, rules
Tend to tempt the next move.

Excuse the grime on my shoes,
the grim in my eyes
cause I can’t tell the consequence
of showcasing a kinder side