BLACKSHEEP

I belong to the thieves the dealers and the pimps no matter what they didn't or did,

I belong to the single young mothers of militant brothers who struggle to feed there kids,

I belong to the assignation of my parents with  one suspect to blame,
He walks with the devil his name is *******,

So much time has past feeling so wronged greeted with fake smiles and hugs made me feel I belonged,

You came and went again today even quicker than last time... front door carelessly swinging on its rusty hinges behind you & porch creaking under your feet as you ran down its tired steps; the baby blue paint chips falling to their deaths from the railings to your sleeping front yard. No one around here can vividly recall the last time they looked into your eyes. No one around here can vividly recall the way your voice sounds in the middle of the night. You are the start of an engine. You are the gravel that rolls beneath your tires & perhaps sometimes even a passing smile. I don't question your desire to go and go and go. *I just hope that where ever you travel you're offered more than old graffitied stop signs and broken windows & maybe one day you can show me which exit to take out of this lazy place.