I’ve been a cracked soul walking on whole concrete

tar black soles slappin rapidly under weary feet..
the slaps are getting old but still, they repeat, they repeat..
like energizer bunnies, beatin deep on the ground beneath..
the sounds drummin off the walls, comin back, an rattlin my teeth..
I added a couple curses and spit it back rattling the streets..

that day I became a shell of a man walkin on cracked concrete

Cerebellum in hand scratchin my head hopin for thoughts to leak..
caught me starin again, eyes open to the sky, posing like an artful greek..
had this eerie feeling inside, tellin me my soul is an authentic antique..
but I still got uncomfortable when my current eugenics got critiqued..
I’m awed and terrified at what’s to come in my last couple a hundred weeks..
but I knew someday I wanna see laughter passin over a couple of my childrens cheeks..

So that day I began to be a whole man, soul searchin and walkin on my own two feet..

I started off by scratchin words furiously on a tattered old blank sheet..
but I don’t do it purposely to get my name on a brightly lit, white, and gold marquis..
it’s just this is the only voice I’ve got to spit a Kodak picture of my soul for free..
so my hands dance out a thousand words on paper.. every moment, a snapshot of “me”..
I rush to gather the images before they drown in reality like hazy morning dreams..
they stand up as living proof of who I am so I frame em for this crazy world to see..

cause today I stand on solid ground with well planted feet, as the man my family always wanted me to be..

I am the conqueror of both whole, and cracked concrete!!