Jun 23, 2015 Wrote it to this beat: The black clovers fall Homeless men sleepin' on pavements Blue-collar men weepin' over payments Happy-go-lucky turnin' stoic Bloodshed reflectin' on the pad of this poet I'm observant, but never so heroic Guilty as charged, but this life - I can't throw it I feel powerless Vowed to help the fatherless Want to help myself Or so I thought Focused on my well-being, my own net-worth In utter disgust, I stare myself in the mirror The picture by day is less and less clearer My prayers are how I've coped and dealt But dear Lord, I repent for how I've felt Constructive criticism, family.
