Trash and Treasures

[poeticasylum1]

Give it up for the brother,
who left the street life.
He has 3 kids and a wife.
Tatted up from his neck to his torso.
Bullet wounds and scars from long ago.
A couple of felonies follow him;
Yet he wont let it stop them,
from grabbing a legit piece of the pie,
he works the garbage trucks,
but he dont ask God why.
He cuts yards on the weekend for extra pay,
It aint much but it makes the family's way.
It might seemed demeaning to some,
but the brother just grateful for this income.

Its just trash and treasures,
who are you to measure.
A man's pride and life?
Thank God you get through the night.
To some it just aint right.
Its better than it was,
so choose your fight.

Give it up for the sister who stopping stripping,
she was only thirteen, pregnant and crippin
At twenty two she looked like forty two,
the game has a way of wearing on you.
Addicted to codiene and X pills,
made her long night by providing cheap thrills,
It took her homegirl to die slowly from AIDS,
to save her life, she finally submitted and prayed.
Now she got a GED and a career,
a small apartment with two kids and she longer fears.
The streets could have taken her just the same.
She stopped surviving, now she living in hope
'cause she left the game.

Its just trash and treasures,
who are you to measure.
A man's pride and life?
Thank God you get through the night.
To some it just aint right.
Its better than it was,
so choose your fight.

Give it up to the revolutionary,
who got a wake up call.
He preached black pride to one and all.
He was wise but didn't see the fall.
He thought he knew better than all yall.
Living good, living right, on the surface.
But beneath the world made him nervous.
Living a double life,
makes a man double shiest,
His comrades figured something wasn't right.
But like all pretenders he couldnt surrender
to the truth,
it started way back in his early youth.
Late in November of '96
convicted sex offender in the mix.
He touched a girl who was only seven and a spell.
Didnt think she track him down
to send him to hell.
They found his body, with a dagger in his chest,
and a press clipping.
Yall know the rest.

Its just trash and treasures,
who are you to measure.
A child's pride and life?
Thank God you get through the night.
To some it just aint right.
Its better than it was,
so choose your fight.

Sometimes we get trash and sometimes we get treasures,
what one man craves another throws away.
Our past is the past,
unless that past catches your arse.
Sometimes its good to change,
just make sure you know how to rearrange.

Richard J Wright