Sometimes I wish I could talk about the pain an hurt that I hold inside..
I guess it’s just a matter of maintaining self worth and emboldened pride…
That, and I hate revealing the scars and wounds I take time to carefully hide…
Because I’m pretty sure that’s not a look of empathy I’m seein there in your eye…

See, I’m usually the last man in the line lookin for a handout or pity…
And sometimes I’d rather stroll at night alone and get swallowed up by the city,
than go out thinking about how I’m feelin hollow an still tryin to act witty..
But it’s a good thing I got drive to get past it and I thank my father that he instilled it in me..

See I grew up a good kid on the wrong side of the tracks, just a half a block past hope..
Had a childish dream of bein a politician or a lawyer but here I am, still *** broke...
That life was stolen when the last bit of air was gasped from my fathers throat..
It wasn't his fault he passed away that night, I just never learned to cope..
Instead I went out an found another life, I stayed hustlin an lightin up dope..
Constantly lookin at my morals dying through a smokey ****** scope...
A shell casing of self loathing almost destroyed the work of my loving folks..

Still through it all my mom an sis never gave up on me though..
Matter of fact, they fought harder for me at times than I did, that's the love I know!
Real talk, my big sister probably saved the life of her little kid bro..
That day she dragged my *** to college, pointed me forward, and told me to go!

I didn’t change overnight though an I’m still walkin forward on that road..
Yea, I’ve stumbled to the point that all I got left now is ****** nubs for toes..
But one foot keeps falling diligently a step ahead of where the other goes..
An aching reminder in every stride that pain and I are forever juxtaposed…

Burned into my consciousness, it’s seared deep with a long list of heartbreaks and R I P’s...
Coupled with the dull ache of lonely nights, lost love, and shattered beliefs…
These thoughts clatter around in my head whether I’m awake or asleep..
But with twin sides to every dagger, it also keeps me sharp on my feet..
Cause I don’t think there’s a heaven with angels pluckin harp strings on a golden street..
It sounds too good to be true… when it ends, I think we just skid to a stop, a whole six feet deep…

To me, there ain’t nothin heavenly about a grave, no matter how elaborate the headstone…
I know from experience that cross displayed won’t ever give you a hug or a friendly welcome home..
Even so, I still persuade myself to open my heart an truly love my fam, now I never fear the unknown..
In order to cope I’m self taught, my lesson plan to shed words instead of tears, formed into a poem..

So I live with the pain inside and hurt that glows deep in my bones and I’m learnin to happily explore it..
Call me a *******, but I figure if I gotta suffer a beautiful life on earth, I might as well be smiling for it..