It's another warm day in the city of cold hearts
With boys who looked wasted like dirty art
They ain't easy to love, they're harder to hold
They don't have diamonds or gold, all the can offer are new slangs and the old
Mamas don't let your boys grow up to be street boys
They'll never stay home and they're always alone
Even with you that they love very much
You'll rarely see them but it's easy for them to watch your back
The only rules they follow are their own
And it's easily misunderstood what you've heard about them
I see why you hate them but know this
No one has the right to judge them until they've fought their fight
They know hurt, they know pain
They know betrayal, they don't know LOVE
Some picked up drugs, some picked up guns
Of course, what value does their lives hold?
But still can you believe?
Some are good doctors , lawyers and such
And you wouldn't be wrong in anyway
If you called these ones "no ordinary men"
U.F.O
YOU ARE READING
Feelings in words don't rhyme
Poesiafeelings are not words, feelings show the truth we've been telling ourselves but refuse to believe and feelings are deceitful. I do not know how to say what I feel so I write them in poems... some from personal experience others from observation and...
