Wherein? over therein gunman spoke to the sneak thieves.. not a worry.. or a thought for loss or those who grieve.. lives for his performance.. ma said he won’t try.. women cheer when he brings stolen money in a lie.. (in his mind a sonnet.. broken down to verse.. ‘when you spend it well.. money cannot be a curse.. music did not feed your family.. love cannot be cooked.. think it through you robber.. do it ’till your booked)
When a choir boy he sung of altar boys and those.. who in faith around the globe brought food.. schools and clothes.. always a good boy.. on his mother he would wait.. while loveless robbed for cash.. bought attention at school gates..
Those who whispered pious to him.. or so it would sound.. always spoke from places high.. he stood on the ground.. sister took sick.. brother gone to school.. ma getting old.. had to heat the house.. winter here is mighty cold..
Sometimes when I see him down on the old street.. driving fancy cars.. women kneeling at this feet.. I remember times when his words had a true place.. something he could say.. to ma.. straight from his face..
Known to carry guns.. always has a wad of cash.. never sings a true song.. always raps a lotta trash.. about how lucky he is.. said he knocked on wood.. inside he remembers what robbed made ma’s home good..
Had I spoken sooner would he have stayed in song.. he knew blues.. could play a harp.. had feeling true and strong.. now when I see him.. we meet eyes.. nod never stare..remembering the man inside.. I knew a child that cared..
Walking home my mind is easy.. sending love in thought.. energy so homeboy knows himself.. what he was taught.. home I pick my guitar.. put words to song.. about freedom found.. understood that truth is strong..
Thought for this day.. ‘I can never blame unknowingly.. in the passing of time.. all human judgment is unknowing.. one can only please those ch0sen to admire.. one should choose very carefully.. for that is who they are’.. Peace Tony