Monday, October 25, 2010

"This Happened to Me (I was just a boy)"
            This happened to me a long time ago, it’s been quite a while I could never know, hell I was just a boy barely eight years old.
            I was sitting on the steps with my big brother Bruce, my mom and step-mom was fighting then all hell broke loose.
            Were they fighting over me, will I have to choose? This game you can’t win you can only lose.
            I saw my pops standing dumb look on his face, he didn’t do shit man what a disgrace.
           But what I know now I didn’t know then. A disgrace? Nah, because what I know now I understand why my pops just stood there not saying a word, it’s a lesson in life forever earned.
          My mom’s yelling out what is and what’s not, next thing that I know my pops calling the cops.
         What the fuck just happened? Someone pulled the wool; they didn’t teach me this lesson in elementary school.
         What could I do? I was just a kid you see, but them police motherfucker's taking momma from me.
         What could I do? Who could I call? Been blaming myself for years, but my pops he dropped the ball.
         Handcuffed my mom, escort to the door, my tears flowed freely they fell on the floor.
        Mom said these words, she looked me right in my eyes, her words ran deep a mini-trial in this child.
        She said these words to me and no other, “Remember what this bitch made your father do to your mother.”
       This happened to me a long time ago, it’s been quite a while I could never know, hell I was just a boy barely eight years old.
      Confused as can be, my eyes wide open still I couldn’t see. Been asking for years why is life shitting on me.
      So I looked long and hard took a good look inside, I did all kinds of dope I did all I could find, and made my escape to the wall of denial.
     You know where it’s at, cause I seen you there. In my life and in yours we got crosses to bear.
     So walk tall and walk steady – don’t ever be shamed – your cross maybe heavy – maybe filled with cocaine – maybe filled with betrayal – maybe filled with blame – maybe filled with hatred – but no matter the name – every cross that we bear is filled with nothing but pain.
    So I live without living without being alive, and I die without dying because I have not died.
    My momma quit she just gave up trying, popped in some pills, ahhhhhhhhhh – suicide.
    Think you feel my pain? You could never know, see I was just a boy barely eight years old.

© 2010 Rennie Murrell


No comments:

Post a Comment