Brisk Walking
He came into this world holding nothing more than his hand high
His voice sounded erupted upon the ceiling in a thunderous cry
While every muscle tensed from his forehead to the bottom of his thigh
This boy, soon the man,would experience what this world would deny
All his trials turned tribulations,would make him stronger and wise
As his walk upon this earth he would learn to disguise...
The blooded hands he washed daily as he looked to the sky
Often wondering and pondering why he couldn't trust anybody
For all his loved ones were taken from his life really early
For all the glory and honor and love he bestowed amongst others
Nothing could replace the love he felt for his mother....
His hidden sadness only masked behind soiled hands and an unforgiving conscience
Only liquor and "vitamins" made reality harder to pinch
His way of running by hopping the interstate
Too busy losing himself to look for a mate
In his former life he probably would be a King's jester
So sad,too far gone to see the joke in this here
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