Itchy

one of my best friends  
hated thug life  
though he was a gangster  
 
we met as kids  
he couldn't stop scratching  
up until the end  
he scratched his final yet first  
annoyance  
strap up to his lid  
 
Itchy was a young man  
barely 31  
not the Itchy I want you to know  
I could never do true justice  
for his middle, end, or any new beginning  
don't send a poet take your own eyes  
and never choose Itchy's mobbed up life  
 
Poem by:  
M.E.L.  
 
Accompanied painting entitled Take Warning (also by M.E.L.)