Nobody knows the trouble between the first heartbeat of wrong
And the last breath as he was knocked on his feet in plain sight
Of kids in the projects playground, seen enough of this, first person shooter,
Bang bang you’re dead motherfucker was once a game now an angry song.
This brutal world stops for a moment to remember, till the next headline
Throttles us into indignation but the ivory towers know we’re content
To feed on scraps of justice thrown from on high, the sorrow sidelined
Distractions of Caesars and Brutuses reenacting ad nauseam the takedown
As we spin seemingly helplessly
, lowered shades too dark to grasp the portent.
A night later, the percussive eve of Independence Day explodes over this part of town
The bombs bursting in air proving through the night that turned backs were still there
The projects locked down tight, and as boots scrape asphalt eyes cast awkwardly down
Nobody knows the trouble of living on the edge of knives and bullets from a comfortable distance
Yet when faced with a mirror, our fist is thrust to stop the world, only to see ourselves in the raining shards of our town.