MOTHERS CRYING

The colors on the street are blue and red, a mother
crying as her child took two rounds and is laying on
the ground dying.

A mother crying, on her kness praying to the Lord
saying you know I'm trying. All they have to eat is
beans and rice, her boys on the corner rolling dice.

The gangsters hang at the corner and tag walls, they
flash signs holding there balls. This life is a mothers
fear, wondering for which child will she shead a tear.

From dusk till dawn, shots ring out BANG BANG only
chalk lines and another one gone. Only then is a short
moment of peace with the flooding of a mothers tears,
and the gangsta tipping beers.

This life of no hope, surrounded by violence and dope.
The only escape is death or being jailed, mothers cry
that the fathers failed. Mothers offer a prayer and light
a candle as a shrine, oh Lord please stop this sense less
dying.