See just before fire was sent to the rain

Before I even saw a glimpse of the pain

Before the arrow was shot through my heart

Before peoples' words could tear me apart

There was hope! Yes, little but there was Hope

Before deceiving lies, foster care, love in disguise

Before tears of hunger bellowed in my brother's eyes

Before cries and pleading to survive 

There was a gift from God that hadn't yet 

been recieved nor forgotten!

So here I stand with no gun, only a pencil in hand

And in that drawer no bullets, but paper in store

But still the idea in mind is murder

Not the murder of a person, but the murder of emotions

And the only casket is the notebook that binds the faces together 

At last I write about the sins within me

At last I speak of the unknown terror of my life

At last the emotions that keep the devil in me are released

Finally the burden of my brother's death can

be resurrected with only one soul knowing! ME!

All 3 of my parent have a piece of my heart

So now it's time to give the word a piece of my mind

But instead of a massacre and a life sentence

I write poetry and spit flows what flows within me

All I can say is poetry saved my life.