WE WERE ARE SOLDIERS

When we were soldiers;

Only time would tell whether we live or die;

A family in uniform we were like brothers and sisters in arms;

Putting aside our differences, we shared the same values;

Loyalty, duty, respect, selfless service, honor, integrity, and personal courage;

Leaders of today and tomorrow we ventured through the darkest voyage;

If you came into our world you would see that we were more than thugs;

Men in arms we trained and fought with our hearts filled with love,

While standing firm as lethal worriers;

As we leave our families behind, still in thoughts, they were our armor of defense,

And our shields in the battlefield;

Protecting our tender most precious organs; we clung unto them until our wounds healed;

While bullets flew across our naked eyes; we took refuge in their spiritual arms,

As we returned fire in order to maintain our lives;

Looking over our shoulders, the only thing worth dying for, we saw that we were never alone;

When all of our muscular strength and endurance were gone;

We carried each other until we were well and strong;

Through various communicational avenues our souls endeavored to release our secluded pains;

In contrast we felt the energies of your psycho-kinetic crystal tears;

Knowing that you would fight with us until the very end;

You stood fast on your square and never bend;

Keeping the flames alive because of you;

We continue to fight; for all that we do;

Written by: Ricky Omar Mitchell

Mitche230@yahoo.com

Copyright 2010

THUG' S CRY

Born in rage as a child…. and granted first to be a “G”;

A don at an unknown age they were taught who they should be;

Faced with the demons of hearing victims creaming;

Guess they were evil from birth, products of cursed semens;

Hate it or love it the thug in them thrived on misery;

Left alone they grew up amongst the dying bread;

Street fames bringing paranoia to the minds of the negative lives;

Ghetto children poisoned by the warfare, an eye for an eye;

Will there ever be a heaven for the rebels without a cause,

They lye resting in the cemetery, souls deleted they cry;

Hell bound they are struck with mirrors of their own demons;

As their neighbors try to quote scriptures; the innocents are buried in ditches;

Tired of being held down; temperatures rising, gunshots firing,

They pray to live another day with a frown;

Baptized in the hell fire of the devils desire

They wonder why their hearts were broken as a child, with only inverted crosses to admire,

No trust in the laws of men; they say fuck the world because they were cursed with a plan;

Having vision of leaving their foundation in a hearse they bow down to only one man;

Praying to God to open the paradise of heaven;

And to forgive them for their sins;

They cry; Thug til they die

Written by: Ricky Omar Mitchell

Mitche230@yahoo.com

Copyright 2010