The Poetry of Rory

 

Thugs Existence



living a thug’s existence
his prowess on the streets was relentless

down with the crew

everyday, taxing fools
late night, out on the grind
they approach, only wanting a dime
so he served it up
claiming their area code and flashing their signs
gunfire erupts
a couple of dead bodies
yellow tape, blood puddles’, chalked outlines
this it what happens to the rough and the tough
so it’s off to prison again

he’s already given them at least ten
apparently he didn’t get enough
can’t let it bother him
he had to represent
gun towers, barbed wire fences
mean muggin’, slammin’ bones
telling stories of how it goes down back home
having to put up with a certain stench
fights breaking out for reasons unknown
getting rolled up on and taken to the hole
he has go through this for a minimum of 25 more
false pride, emptiness inside, his ego deflated

the next cell over, a man being penetrated
no one ever shows up on visiting day
never will he be able to watch his kids play
lost his freedom, locked in the system
forever living a thug’s existence



Rory

©rj2009/10