Lookin' For Trouble

I come from broken homes
and night rides, illuminating
street lights posted on
the corners where drugs come and go
in full supply.
Take a breath,
it doesnt last long.
Everyone around me is living for the next pay stub,
surviving is the goal cause we can't live when we old.
Smelling of depression and overtime,
bill collectors blowing up lines
and my mum just wants to sleep, but
cant with not knowing where her only child may be.
I know half of who made me
and fear what I can become;
plan b's and polo shirts are the only trends my friend's friends thrive on.
The sun shines the Kingdom with
the moon playing sin,
cause once the stars start to shine,
we out on the street,
again
and
again.
With at first no apparent aim,
but I do know I want to drink and meet a female
who can take my mind off the pain,
the stress, and uncertain future that
plagues my everyday routine.
Maybe success aint meant for me?
Perhaps Im always going to be tied to the streets
because my only talent seems to be
with a pen and wide view on things.
Introspective when silent,
dreaming with eyes awake,
yet the nightmare comes in the form of my mistakes.
Mistakes linked to the past,
experience becoming vast
when I look back and assess the decision that could have been best.
Right?
You cant answer that
because this is my life.
A small cubicle in this building of years
and no one has seen every matter of business
I've attended,
except me.
No one knows why I am who I am,
not even me,
to an extent.
Im lookin' for trouble when I question
this vessel that houses my soul,
a soul burning passion and hate
for the chance that I can hold
the hand of my love,
fruits of my success,
praises from my enemies,
and joy from the family.
This isnt even the first step.
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I just made that up

Later Days