Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1385386-A-Hopeless-Heart
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Crime/Gangster · #1385386
This person has never felt loved so he would rather be in jail where he feels at home.
i was a baby in a paper bag
my cries, kitten meows
a trash man saved me
miracle from God, he said
my old lady's gone
first cops then government people

i been hidin lots of tears and loss

i was forgotten
too young to talk.

my old lady didn't need a kid
her first love was her next fix
i was born with crack in my blood
young for that taste,
for the pipe that eases pain
any booze bottle to get high, smokin crank
down with chasing the dragon,
even smelling gas in the tank

nobody cared,
feeling forgotten.

one foster man beat me
with a metal pipe.
teachin me wrong from right
dropped outta school- had to work.

left number five stone cold home
for a filthy abandoned building.
my homeboys were my blood.
live by the gun
die by the gun.
we sold anything that anybody wanted
guns, ID, drugs

i am forgotten
but it is all right.

i have come full circle,
from trash can to wood palette
the smell has not changed
garbage is garbage.
have 5-10 for armed robbery
possession of a controlled substance
was born with drug in my body
a love tie to my own mother.

have a cot, blanket, food, books
a shank to protect me.
safer than a kid
put in a foster home.
other brothers are friends

I have a rep and can score drugs.
I am not forgotten.
I belong.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1385386-A-Hopeless-Heart