Becoming Jermaine wasn't easy but it was easy to mold him into the person he is today .
He never had a father .
No one to play or watch sports with , no one to teach him about girls or teach him in general .
He was the cold feeling in the chilly nights , the winter's ice , the beautiful of the monstrosity of the black , dark clashing waves
His mother , a alcoholic never payed him any attention.
Most things he did know he taught himself ,
forcing him to grow up at such a young age.
He was often mistaken for a normal light skinned boy growing up in the slums , selling drugs , doing no good .
That was a false perception.
He had the weight of the world on his shoulders .
Many nights he'd go up to the apartment building's roof top and peer out into the stars , constantly overthinking , driving himself crazy .
The only thing that kept him sane was a paper and pen .
Writing and composing music was his escape from his harsh reality called life .
His life drove him insane , his life pushed him and pushed him and pushed him until he drove off the edge .
At his young , and older age he has a very extensive vocabulary which seemed to match his craziness .
Growing up like he did , living in the slums , selling drugs to survive , dropping out of school you'd think he would be angry at his mother for not caring about him , finding happiness in a bottle of Jack Daniels , daring to give him a liquid smile .
He felt sorry for her ,
he often blamed his father . A nameless , coward who walked out on his responsibilities , the mother of his creation given from god .
He blamed god .
God gave him a life he had no choice but to accept or fall .
He wanted to be needed ,
He wanted to mean something to someone ,
He wanted to love,
He wanted to be normal ,
But ,
He was Jermaine.
