Uhh,..Young Ston, What up..
Shoutout to my hustling **** ******..Shoutout to my hustling gangstas..Uhh, Shoutout to all my hustling ****** ******, Shoutout to all my ****** real ******, aye..

/OFTR, We ****** Hustlers man & , (we handle our business, Yeah2)..Aye we some ****** real ****** & we (handle our business4),Our business Yeah..OFTR we ****** Hustlers man , Aye we some real ******..****** young ******, , but we (handle our business4) our business..(Yeah we handle our business2).. Handle (our business2)..,OFTR, we gangstas..we ****** hustlers man Yeah we stay high all day. ,but (we take care of business, Yeah2)..we take care of business man.. Handle (our business3)..we some ****** real ******, but (we get to business, Yeah3)..We ****** Hustling young ******.. (young real ******2)..gangsta (thugging..real ******3)...Yeah,OFTR, We ****** Hustlers,man..(We handle our business..3) (Yeah we handle business3) man...we (handle business,2)..our business (we handle..our business..2)(our business2)..***** (Yeah we bout our business4)..We some ****** Hustling (Thugging..gangsta ******3)..OFTR..(****** young ******3),..but we bout our ****, Yeah we ****** (Hustling Gangsta young ******3),We gangstas *****..ONLY FOR THE REAL..
Aye Yeah..
(we handle our business4)..handle (our business3)..Aye we some ****** Hustlers man Aye, Yeah (We bout our business2).Yeah we (take care of business2).. We take care of (our business..2)business..We busy

We bout our business, Yeah we handle business man, We some Thugging ******, we some gangsta ****** & (we stay ****** *****2)..Aye, but we all on our **** man, Yeah..We ****** Hustlers *****, Yeah (we handle our business2)..(our business3)..Yeah..Uhh
I wake up in the morning I gotta Thank God, & I gotta get (back to ryhming, back to grinding2),back to taking care of business..my business *****,Aye, they say stick to what you do best & stick to what you know man..& stay true to yourself, don't let these devils confuse you & mislead you  to the wrong path my *****..

Aye, hard work doesn't go unnoticed & that's real talk, this is real game from a younging, don't be scared to learn something from me, don't be a fool man, I know they don't know too much about me, The Young ****** Disciple, but I'm one of the realest rappers that's still alive tho dude, Fo sho,I'm the best rapper in Atlanta OFTR, we our own league dawg..& I'm the commissioner, we will never fall, we stand tall, & We forever gone ball, stay strong, & keep grinding.., Yeah, we take care of business..
Yeah..We bout our business..

/We ****** Hustlers, ****** (young ******,2) that (handle our business,2..)(our business2)..Yeah we take care (of business3), Yeah/2
Aye we getting to business..man , I'm making these hoes famous just for one night my nig,I'm macking on these hoes,like the 70s, then I'm (back to business2) man..I handle (my business2),yeah, my ***** I'm too much , too handle, I'm too much to control,Young Ston *****..(too much2).. Man
I got the full control of my music..I got the control now Kendrick,..Uhh,I'm proving all of them ***** *** critics so wrong now man..They made a big mistake dobuting on a young *****, a ****** Hustling Thuggin Gangsta,ayo The system created a monster that's about to go off like Godzilla on my city dawg, I'm causing alot of chaos my *****,no regrets
Fo show dude ..Ohhwoah..Uhh.

Shoutout to my hustling **** ******..Shoutout to my hustling gangstas..Uhh, Shoutout to all my hustling ****** ******, Shoutout to all my ****** real ******, aye..OFTR
We ****** Hustlers.. ONLY FOR THE REAL
mufucker
Yeah..

The hidden hustlers.

Most of the time, we question the focus of the people we know who are used to having multi faceted things going on with their lives. Stereotypically, most folks have one track sense of judgement on their failures blaming it on the lack of time because of the multiple things those multi faceted people do. There is a known imperative for the common haters, keyboard warriors and ****-hurts of the judging world of current social media to capitalize on the mistakes rather than what has been accomplished, boiling down to, yes, lack of focus.

These people are low-key hustlers. These are people who have massive amounts of real pursuit in terms of things outside their core jobs. People who are the reasons why charities exist, and the same category of people why art forms in this earth continue to be significant. They are usually those folks who are the outliers of the common society, and what a joy to meet and get inspired by these people.

And yes, they are the ones who has people’s eyes sticked in their backs for most part of their lives. The ones who are often exposed to criticisms and judgement, particularly to things like lack of focus during the event of setbacks and misfortunes. When a failure arises, the first one to blame is the lack of focus. I’ve experienced it myself and to the other people, and some, to the closest circle where I personally noticed the struggle in terms of managing their time and their long-lined patience. More than time actual struggle, it’s the stereotyped judgments that hurt them.

But through the years of observation, I found the idea reversed.

Reversed in a sense that I believe that most of the multi-faceted persons have the most solid and ******* focus someone can get from a person. Over the decade of experience in the workplace, those who have side hustles and passion projects are the people who have actual pedigree on lending an extra thousands of miles when tasked to do something. They are the master of balance. They sacrifice their passions hideously depending on human variables such as timing and use of words. They are over-reactive internally and complicated critical thinkers because they won’t allow slightest of any judgement touch and blame the things they are passionate during an event of delays on the tasks they are doing. They know how to sacrifice and be hurt in the process. These are the people who spends sleepless nights just to save their passion projects and keep them afloat in hectic schedules, they are the hustlers in such a way that any loopholes that lead to destroying the things they love can’t be tolerated, so they better put in the hard work hiding in plain sight even if there are no eyes looking, they are masters of making it effortless in the naked eye. But when you dig further on how they do it, you know that they are always in a brink of dying due to misunderstandings and angry loved ones, families and friends because they have been all juggled inside the 24-hour day. Yes they know their shortcomings, but I say, it’s the reverse in terms of  focus.

Some people might relate to this because, I know that these are the people who has thirst to etch something in the world, but is to busy to market and brag it. They have multiple pockets of insane hours and grit on their focal points of pursuits.

Only people with strong focus can be experts in their multi-faceted fields of pursuit. Without massive amount of focus, you won’t be able to build multiple habits. And without the habits, you won’t be experts. Period.

And the funny thing is, often time, people who are judging them on their slightest mistakes are usually reactions from mediocre individuals who are connected with them and sometimes, the victim character who got the lesser attention time from the multi-faceted hustler, thus stirring up pressure because, looking at it, there is a level of dependence, and any delays or setbacks could be  attributed to the ‘so-called’ lack of focus.

These hustlers are people, who are sometimes, difficult to understand. They give vague reasons why they cannot attend a not so important life event. They mastered the art of matured alibis so they won’t hurt feelings. But true enough - they might be insensitive at times.

They get anxiety when they don’t produce something out of their passions. They are curators of their own products. These are the natural creatives, in which, ironically, the stereotype judgment on their mistakes are usually associated with time management issues, lack of focus and improper spending of money on things that majority of people won’t appreciate, or worst, in some eyes, are not important because it doesn’t profit.

I find it ironic when those people who are multi-faceted are more focused than those who are masters of a singular field. We can say that both has focus, but cancelling out the posers, multi-faceted hustlers have the most low-key grit and grind attribute you can find in any human being.
They won’t anyone touch their joys with one-dimension judgement. But they are not showy and everything seemed to be effortless.

So what I'm telling you is somehow the argument is in reverse. They tend to be targeted because of their vague presence, in which results speak for itself. they are working in the shadows - They are the people who inspires, who are strong, and the ones who deserve any small amount of appreciation. They are the people I call the hidden hustlers.

sages and brethren
gather, and share
and slowly souls
are bared
their tempered voices
and quiet eyes
reserved of judgment
with passing smiles

moments blend
in current trends
opinions wide
and reflections deep
the concepts
and irregularities
once murky
now clear

they prioritize
and familiarize
that staunch resolution
of generation net
will remunerate
and illuminate
through the checkpoints
and formal reviews
through the purple curtains
and open stage
nothing tainted
or bitter
left for taste

cause its they
who’ll plant the seeds
the captains of commerce
healers and jugglers
the coaches and councilors
negotiators and compromisers
the kings and queens
hustlers and hellcats
(who've all found their way!)
let us tip our hats
and salute them

Watching night step-sitters staring at each passerby
abiding time as if counting sheep stepping with the city's cadence
Hearing sirens alarming in their BEWARE BLARING;
persistent fearfulness for evil and citizens securities
Staring-walking-bodies searching a barren land prostrating
before the great needle
Patched streets and decaying sidewalks by flooding night lights lay surreal

DECAYING fingers of poverty playing its fingers into every crack, crevice; into every pore, into every cell member
into one's whole being
Sounding the hip-hop generation street corners of hustlers
jiving away the night
The hustled and hustlers' overwhelming struggling for power; being surrounded by red brick and stone; being  incased in poverty

Pounding city hysteria;
at times laying silent in sleepless depth
by the waning gradualness;
anytime readying itself to ERUPT

Hustlers run day and night
Only sleeping when the time is right

Hustling isn't the life
Come help me be a hood wife

Eat chicken one night feathers the next
He won't take checks

Running every hustle you've ever been taught
Never know when you're going to stop

Robbing, skimming, and Pimpin you don't care
As long as you have silk underwear

Send your b---h out to get paid
B---h don't come back till you get laid

Once you come back with cash duckies
All of the dope dealers get new ***'s

That's when the F'er runs to score
Then he gets ready to soar

Watch every step or move you make
Because he's got a hit to take

With every hit he takes
The demon inside starts to wake

He starts to replay the day
Worrying if you'll go stray

He knows he's breaking every rule
But he still maintains he's super cool

So he starts beating you
Making you black and blue

B---h you come a dime to dozen
You cross me you'll be frozen

Could mean do or die
So don't apply

1967 san francisco is transformed into city of missing children haight ashbury brims with scraggly orphans thousands sit on street curbs live in cars hang out on floors of shops roam streets parks sleep on sidewalks unthinkable social cultural phenomenon Odysseus embraces madness walking through different neighborhoods going without food sleep in golden gate park floral smells so strong he can taste flowers kids openly pass joints acid doses trip dance make music laugh Odysseus is risk-taker but he is not street smart along with flocks of totally wasted kids street hustlers abound Odysseus sets down backpack beside eucalyptus tree rests when he wakes backpack is gone he is penniless disconnected hitchhikes across bay to berkeley less congested more manageable meets some runaways like him but not like him they squatter in abandoned house off telegraph avenue maybe 20 hippies crashing in house Odysseus adopts enormous closet hidden in back bedroom as his space has small window feels like sanctuary sometimes he comes home finds 5 or 6 kids sleeping in closet in a way people in house become his family tribe some of people are suspicious especially older secretive man with 2 tongue-tied underage girls whom he claims are his daughters Odysseus suspects veiled ****** exploitation girls are lovely yet behave frightened repressed life on street does not come easy telegraph avenue overflows with lost souls searching to hook-up fragrance of frankincense drifts amidst music drug deals rip-offs bullying brawls hierarchy from hell’s angels down Odysseus stays high dances sometimes panhandles “i live in commune with 2 pregnant girls” whatever cash he collects scores acid **** subsists on diet of gum candy sunflower pumpkin seeds sometimes ketchup with french fries his acne crescendos he learns if he drops acid daily by third or fourth day he cannot get off no matter how much he doses tries peyote cactus buttons after waiting nearly hour to get off he suffers stomachache dizziness projectile vomits finally flies into freaky hallucinations he swallows mescaline capsules feels sick to his stomach forgets about his nausea trips for 9 hours tries psilocybin mushrooms laughing straight through night experiments with stp trips for 3 days Bobby Stern and Martha Quigley come out from chicago to visit they are curious about the scene need to hook up Odysseus introduces them to his friends shows them telegraph avenue he turns and they have vanished he does not know where they have gone everybody is losing everybody new kids show up everyday oakland **** named red rat kidnaps Martha is heiress from distinguished chicago family their disappearance makes chicago papers after week Bobby and Martha manage to escape they never reveal to Odysseus what red rat did to them radio plays doors’ “light my fire” and jimi hendrix’s "purple haze" Odysseus has crush on beautiful blonde Patty she  ran off for summer from her parent’s home in sunset section of san francisco Odysseus and Patty hang out go see country joe and fish in provo park on sundays hitchhike into city watch Jefferson Airplane play for free in golden gate park hitchhike to marin see Grateful Dead jam at muir beach dude hands out free acid Odysseus is total acidhead acid reveals everything in new intensified light *** on acid is beyond *** wilder than *** more primal *** so intense it transcends limits of eroticism acid helps Odysseus realize his true self his pain sadness tears lies crazy-*** side first tingling tremors in stomach chest hands then initial flashes of sparkle traces of color echoes of giggling laughter lucid thoughts sometimes he swallows such large doses all he can do is stare out at white light what is it about massive hits of acid? measure of how fierce his spirit? self-punishment? escapism? he wonders why he so desperately needs to escape from what whom? himself? Mom’s numerous efforts to convince him he is mentally disturbed? Dad’s fists? escape from real world to where? Odysseus hangs with Pluto skinny 16 year old ****-addict golden wavy hair rotting teeth finesse with girls Pluto claims crystal **** enhances *** more than acid needles frighten Odysseus he lets one of Pluto’s girls hit him up with methamphetamine feels sudden overwhelming rush through head body forgets about needle before it ever leaves his arm having been initiated Odysseus begins scoring with Pluto’s girls Pluto knows tons of girls Odysseus loves feeling numb free being out of control not giving a **** getting ****** ****** by pretty girl if he could have his way he would go from ****** to ****** with pretty girl all day every day deep in drug induced state because drugs lower inhibitions allow them to explore some sick disgusting stuff that is paradise for Odysseus he is rapidly slipping into street life drug addiction wakes up with ants crawling in his hair witnesses numerous fights freak-outs 2 different kids o.d. while he is present lots of creepy stuff  by early august realizes he might wind up dead soon or rotting like Pluto Odysseus has spirit but troubled by what he sees troubled enough to return home go back to school he feels lost desperate alone not thinking plots drug deal swindle double-crosses some people guilt and shame for conning people haunts him for years he gives Pluto half the money tells him to share with Patty with his cut buys ticket back to chicago Penelope is first to greet him she gives him big hug comments “you need a shower and shave real bad!” his hair is wild scraggly beard Odysseus holds on to her he has missed his little sister glad to be near her feels panicky his parents will punish him Mom and Dad are relieved but agitated their worry and shame at his flight have turned to anger resentment they rationalize he selfishly ran off merrymaking for 3 months they sternly make plans for his next semester while Odysseus was away in california Penelope has ****** ******* for first time in back seat of Jed Zurbeck's black pontiac Penelope in secret goes to see doctor for pregnancy test doctor recognizes Penelope’s last name calls house Odysseus answers phone doctor asks to speak with Mr. or Mrs. Schwartzpilgrim Mom picks up phone doctor informs her Penelope is pregnant all hell breaks loose doctor makes house call with Mom and Dad present offers 2 options for Penelope “you can be picked up by limousine on state street and blindfolded you will be taken to an undisclosed location where abortion procedure is performed then re-blindfolded and returned by limousine to state street or you can report incident as **** and get signatures of three physicians then have abortion in a hospital” Mom and Dad choose to report it as a **** fabricate story about Penelope walking home from school and being grabbed pulled into alley by black man who rapes her Penelope is made to tell lie three times deeply disturbs her after abortion is done in hospital Dad makes Penelope swear not to admit abortion to anyone insists she tell Jed Zurbeck she made up stupid lie and she was never really pregnant Penelope obeys and tells no one

I hadn't been there in ages, hadn't visited, I had no reason to
But then the Covid virus struck and Dublin where I was working was put into quarantine
I wasn't allowed to go up there anymore to work,
And I had no computer at home and no broadband/ WiFi at the time
So they sent me down to the Old Town
It was nice driving down the motorway, it was Autumn and the leaves they were all changing colour
The different shades of red, brown green and yellow
With the sun shining on the mountains and on the bay
It felt almost like I was going on my holidays,
The Old Town it had changed so much, there were all these new buildings,
Retail parks on the outskirts, hotels, new schools, civic buildings... coffee shops
It was lovely and clean and tidy
Like those living there were really proud of it,
The old town I'd known it was there also, in the background, a bit dusty now
There was the big old gothic church my Dad used take us to, to Mass some Sundays
There was the Port and the big ships along the Quay
There was the secondary school I was meant to go to... had we stayed...it looked old, a bit dilapidated now
I wondered was it still being used as a school,
In the Main Street there were still old names of shops that I recognized
The shoe shop where my Mom used buy us shoes
The chemist where my brother got his glasses... the Bakery
The cinema where we seen our first movie "The Magnificent Seven", it was all done up now... all different...
In the office things were... well...weird! ghostly!
A big modern office and some days I was the only one there, just me all on my own
Was like something out of a Sci-fi movie
Other days maybe two or three might come in to join me
All the others of course, they were all working from home,
Often I'd find my mind just filling with old memories and nostalgia...
I could hear the old ghosts calling, calling me to go back
I knew... I knew I had to go back there
Back to where it had all begun for me
The little seaside village where I was born.

So going home I took the coastal road not the motorway
Just the sight of the headland and the blue mountains sloping down to the sea
With the lighthouse there at the end
Just seeing them again gave me an old feeling of my father, my Dad
And then the village itself, the seafront... all the colourfully painted shops,
Sweet shops & novelty shops, the amusement arcade, pubs and hotels and B&B's  (Bed and Breakfasts)
After being away for nearly fifty years, it still looked...it still looked pretty much the same, was hard to believe
I stopped my car and went into a little supermarket shop to get a sandwich for the next day
As I looked around, I seen these two mature ladies there, they were around my own age
I thought to myself 'I might have gone to school with you once many years ago, one of you might even have been my wife had we stayed here and not moved away
I might have lived a more normal, a different life'
But then I thought 'Life is never that simple, is it'.
Outside I decided to go for a walk, to look around and reminisce.

There was the path, the pavement I used go to school on with my brothers
It was like returning to the scene of a crime
How I used to dread going to school sometimes
There was a teacher, a lady teacher that used scare me a lot, she terrified me so
I remember I got sick in class on several occasions
She put me outside once sitting on an upturned bin
I can still remember sitting there on that bin in the sun, feeling so lost and that I was a really bad boy, wishing I was home
I remember I used to get hives, itches on my skin
My Mom used keep me at home
She was afraid, she thought I'd give them to the other kids
I missed the addition and subtraction tables at school because of this
To this day I still don't know what 7 + 5 is, instead I bring it to 10, I know 5 is 3 + 2, so I say 7 + 3 is 10 and 2 is 12
And I know all the doubles, 7 + 6 is 6 + 6 is 12 and 1 is 13, funny that
How I used to dread going to school
Until that was... until one day I did well at something and I received some praise
Then things seemed to change after that, I wasn't as bothered anymore, I think then I realized I was doing better than some of the others in my class and that seemed to make a difference
I remembered sitting beside pretty little girls who used have lovely pink pencil cases with lots of fancy colourful things
Whereas me I barely had a pencil, a rubber (eraser) and a ruler
They were strange lovely creatures, the Girls with their lovely long hair and their cute little faces...
I remembered walking home on my own, with my little schoolbag on my back with all my books in it
It was such a beautiful place, the view with the beach and the sea and the faraway blue mountains
And yet, I used to worry about so many things
It's like even then it was all about...all about survival...
There was the big Chapel on the hill
Once before the Summer holidays they were looking for altar boys and someone put my name forward
Then on the first morning back to school after the Summer holidays
The teacher said you better get down to the church right away, like fast!! you're on the altar this morning !!!
I was terrified, I didn't know what I had to do, no one told me anything
So there I was on my own kneeling on this cold hard marble altar and it was hurting my knees something terrible
And the priest he's talking about God and the Devil and Evil or Hell or whatever
And all these people, the whole congregation their all staring up at us
And I'm petrified, and I started to get faint and nauseas
The priest had to stop the Mass
I can't remember if I got sick or passed out
I was so embarrassed and thought afterwards I was such a terrible bad person, I knew it'd be all around the school the story.

I walked on...our house was gone, knocked down, where there used to be three houses together attached, now there was only the end house
Our house used to be the middle house
It didn't look right now, the symmetry looked all wrong
It was like there was two missing teeth
Why did they have to knock it down ? I wondered. It saddened me a bit...

At another house I stopped, this used to have a shop, a small shop,  the shop was no longer there
This was my Best Friend's house, all the days we used to play football together in the back garden
Kicking the ball to each other
With our jumpers/ sweaters as goalposts
The first to score ten would win the game
I...I usually won
I always found you easy to read, it's like you only ran in straight lines,
I think you were a bit in awe of me for some reason
Maybe you wouldn't have been my friend if you'd beaten me
How did we become friends anyway, I wondered
I suppose coming home from school
We lived on the same road and were in the same class, we'd have met each other
I had two older brothers whereas you were the oldest
So our families would have had a different dynamic
I remember you had a delightfully silly younger brother
I remember your Mom, she was very pretty, she was a lot younger than my Mom
You used bring me in and give me a meal sometimes, we'd all sit and watch TV
There was a different feeling when I was in your house...a different atmosphere
But when your Dad would come home, he was a bit scary
And I knew it was then time for me to go home
You'd wonder afterwards what the lovely Mom saw in the scary Dad, adults they were a bit peculiar.

We were inseparable in those days, many mornings you'd hear the knock on the door
And the familiar greeting
"Hello Mrs B---, Is G---- in, is he coming out to play?"
We were always playing soccer up the garden
Or down on the beach, going out for miles to meet the tide, catching *****, looking under  stones to see what we might find
I remember we were very entrepreneurial
In the Summer we used collect returnable glass mineral bottles, Orange and Lemonade and Coca Cola
And we'd bring them back to the shop and get money back for them
And then we'd have a royal feast, we'd buy bottles of Orange and bags of crisps and ice cream pops and chocolate bars,
Remember all the different Ice pops there used to be, Choc Ices and Brunches and Orange splits, 99's... Ice cream cones
Chocolate bars, Smarties and Malteasers, Milky Bars and Milky Ways, Dairy Milk chocolate bars, fruit gums and Love hearts with little love messages written on them
We used hang around the amusement arcade, play the slot machines, maybe help some old lady collect her winnings, she might give us a tip
There was the bumper cars and the swingboats and music playing all the time on the jukeboxes
It was the seventies (the 70's) and glam rock was all the rage
Marc Bolan and T-Rex, and Slade and The Sweet and a million others
So many great songs, we couldn't wait to grow up and become one of those amazing creatures we saw on the telly
I'd never lived since as intensely as I did back then,
We'd stay out till late
We were like young hustlers going around,
It seemed the days they were never long enough, all the things we got up to,
We'd Caddy in the local golf course
And retrieve lost ***** from the ditches...
Heh! Remember... remember that time... the Brennan sisters, we were up one day near the school
There was building work going on
And there was this big high mound of clay
So we climbed to the top to take in the view
And then the two Brennan sisters came over
They lived nearby
They were in our class at school, we knew them only to see
They were smiling and laughing and giggling
They beckoned for us to come and follow them
We went wondering what was going on here
They led us back to their house, I think their parents must have been out
One of them came up to us and smiled
And then she pulled down her pants and showed it to us in all its wonderful glorious splendour
It was amazing... incredible... such a sight
Her beautiful...her splendid... her lovely... bare Bottom!
I remember thinking it was like a lovely ripe pear
One of Life's great mysteries had just been unveiled
And her there with this huge impish grin,
When we were going home we promised each other we'd not tell anyone, our parents, not even the priest in confession
About that great vision we'd just witnessed
It was the height of naughtiness
Yea! Those were the days...

I wondered, 'Whatever became of you Old Friend ?
I looked you up online but couldn't find your name anywhere, couldn't find anything about you
Were you even still alive ?
50 years was a long time, I'd barely made it this far myself, and I had a lot of scars to show for it
I thought rather amusingly that I should knock on your door
Maybe you were still living there,
But what was I hoping to find ? I wondered...
"Whose at the door ?", a woman's Voice inside might say,
"Just... just some crazy guy talking about 50 years ago" her dutiful husband would reply
That's probably how it would go
I felt like I was Rip Van Winkle awakening after being asleep for 100 years or in my case 50 years
What did I hope to find
What did I hope to see, an old man now just like myself
And I bet you'd tell me your opinions on the government and the economy
And how the village had changed over the years and how other old schoolmates of ours had got on in life
But No! that's not what I wanted to hear or see
I wanted to see you there again just like you were as a little kid
Your lovely youthful face smiling back at me
And you'd say, "I'll get the ball and we'll have a game, the first to ten wins"
This was what I was looking for, this was what I wanted to hear.

We were very close, were going to grow up together, go to the same schools...college
We'd always be friends
We'd meet all the trials of life together....
I hope Life worked out well for you, my friend
In a way...in a way I almost didn't want to know
If I learned you did well in Life I'd probably only get jealous
I'd start to think I was better than you and that I should have had those things you had
Life, this world it makes enemies of us all... eventually
It divides, is all about competing and comparing... and beating (I suppose).

I still remember that last night before I left forever
We were down on the beach, it was twilight, the tide was coming in... the waves slowly advancing
Just like in life I had no power to stop it, to change things,
I had no say, I didn't want to go and leave you Old Friend
No! I didn't want to go....

Thank you...thank you for being my friend, for being there
For all the time you gave me, I hope I didn't hurt you in any way.

I have a photograph, one solitary old black and white photo of the two of us
We're sitting on a barrel in our back garden on either side of my Dad whose in the middle
You look a bit uncertain, unsure of yourself, probably lost in the dynamic of my family,
I look at you and I think
"Whatever happened to you.... Beautiful Friend, whatever became of you"
And then I look at myself as well, and I think, I whisper
"Whatever became of me as well".

the darkened conclaves can equate from the forest to that of the trees
personifications of love is captured in the tender moments lost in time
my very being permeates a hidden lasting feeling of sweet anticipation
in relation to philosophical conquest we can surely digress
all of life may certainly be a test in your world of push and shove
the decorated vase out of the living room floor a willingness to deeply explore
vibrations within swift temptation of quaint mediations
its the environment you see can knock you to your knees out spreading its disease
everyone has pain from deep inside its phony to try to run away & hide
for we exist as a vapor of dust then we are no more yet through the flame
let me be the first to explain that the flame is the fiery affliction that must come
*** rush the show as it inflates the common man's ego telling you where you need to go
hustlers, pimps & common thieves

the streets are filled with violence and there is work to be done
why must we suffer in silence amidst the violence

working so hard like a soldier can't afford food to be found
poets to poetry all of life is a mystery I have come to believe yet there needs to be more
smoking fat blunts have a bottle of whiskey on the side going along for the ride
we hide behind four walls the seal claiming it to be no big deal
got to go on an awaited vacation in need of rest from any expectations
hearing the sound of the surf on the turf it gets me so high
trying to catch that frisbee so out of reach yet today I preach
only to the masses giving people second chances to where they need to go
for some folks they like to keep their rap clean no daddy was a hustler and momma was a *****
selling her junk in the back of a trunk down by the liquor store yelling for more
falling apart at the seam in some evil twisted scheme we just do what we please
start spreading the disease going to knock you to your knees see ya on the flip side squeeze
I know what are thinking have i been doing a lot of drinking by why you winking
serious folks we got to cope instead of getting in a fight with the soap on the rope
life is serious so please refrain from engaging in stupid thrills even if it pays the bills