12 March 2010


Glory was the days when you were hustling away;
Crack, cocaine, Marihuana, you name it; you had it made;
The street corners were your precious domain;
Needy people flourished around your presence craving for the essence that would ease their pain;
Dressed in suit and ties, like the aristocrats of modern times;
Education was still planted in mind;
Camouflaged like a chameleon, no one knew your real intentions;
To live the life of glamour, you sacrificed all that you could remember;
Up and down the iron horses you would travel;
Bus runs were your routine pedal; seven days a week you would struggle;
Wanting those presidents that have already been covered with pebbles;
Six feet under they humbled;
Rest assure the day came where you stumbled;
Confined between four walls and a couple of bars; you withered in storm;
Feeling lost and gone, you prayed and mourned;
As you continued through the days, years swiftly and rigorously clothed your fears;
Bearing time on the cross of injustice now became the crusade that you faced;
What a disgrace, family and friends gradually became displaced;
No more grace stood in place;
Now confronted with thoughts of change;
The transitional phase uprooted in flames;
Gallons of sweat flooded your pores as you submerged in rage;
The battle began between the four devils:
Lust, envy, hate, and jealousy of all that stood in you;
Three hundred and sixty degrees you screamed like a banshee;
Past actions of running the streets became your nightmares;
Can you go back, should you proceed, or should you let it be and flee?
Such misery clamped onto you to keep you company;
Still in all the day came where the trumpet would sound;
You thus psyched out all that surrounded you;
Only to listen out for that sweet melody;
Free at last, the meteorological climate gradually dissipated;
Feeling refined you journeyed on with your life;
Thinking about all the goals and aspirations that you had created;
The tools that would build your foundation continued to be mended;
New associates, new friends, new and old families, and a job that allowed you to be contented;
This is the glory that is now the milestone of your past;
What won't breake you will only make you stronger;
As you get older these thoughts of yours you will always remember;
Three hundred and sixty degrees brings forth a new chapter

written by Ricky Mitchell
copyright 2006

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