deepundergroundpoetry.com
HARD OUT HERE FOR A KID
My father left home long ago;My drunk of a mother Told me so.You can’t believe nuthin She says.She takes the side Of whoever pays.
I have no food,And no bed.Not calling it quits;She’ll be happy If I’m dead.
On the streets,I make my living.Robbing, dog fighting,And a little drug dealing.
I wish things were different But the world I was born into I can’t change.I am a product of what my father did;It’s hard out here for a kid.
I have no food,And no bed.Not calling it quits;She’ll be happy If I’m dead.
On the streets,I make my living.Robbing, dog fighting,And a little drug dealing.
I wish things were different But the world I was born into I can’t change.I am a product of what my father did;It’s hard out here for a kid.
Published 22nd Sep 2014
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22nd Sep 2014 8:39pm
Deep. You can always change it always depend on the individual if they want it?
22nd Sep 2014 11:08pm
