Poem By: Dr. Billy Alsbrooks
Abandoned youth, drowning in the life. Adopted by the streets, treated like blood.
Ran with misfits, surrounded by killers. Tattoo artist with a chip on his shoulder.
His father, doing life in prison.
His mother, anyone who will show him attention. Doesn’t talk a lot, but his ink speaks volumes. Uneasy inside, but doing arm candy calms him. Everybody calls him, exploited for his talent.
16, didn’t seem to fit in.
Same age as trigger man, redrum and tear drops. Hate cops, gang unit and drug spots.
None of them see it, but the storm is coming. No running, his click shoot to kill.
The real deal, known for the blood spill.
Can you blame them, never had a hug in their life. Now each one got a gun and a knife?
Lil’ David just begging for attention.
Closed eyes unaware of the danger.
And what’s to come, rendezvous with the strangers. Gang bangers, numb to the violence. Bandana couture, outcast and forgotten.
Alex and Eli, both on parole.
David in the middle, back seat amigos.
Just met’em, two hotties in the front seat. Passing weed, driving slow down backstreets.
Ink don’t appeal to the little blonde chicks. What has he done, Lil’ D with a gun.
Words exchanged, two girls dead. Something snapped, shot’em both in the head. Sentenced to life, never see the sun.
Didn’t see it coming, he was the quiet one.