To: My Dear Mother

DIE TRYING

Rain storms.. angry gusts...

tha universe is crying.

Mother nature, father time; they say to act within compliance.

Feel tha coldez rhyme a breez w/ ease like she`s not trying

but tha secret to life is TO LIVE AND DIE TRYING.

MISSION STATEMENT

Tha sound of hunger, tha moans of pain-

muffled but never silenced thru tha rhythm of tha rain.

Tha vision iz engraved of all tha millions been enslaved-

be it a victim of tha pain or a victim to tha trade.

Like from a distance we've been trained, so they can reign within tha flame.

But that flame is slowly flicker`n, THA GAME`S ABOUT TO CHANGE!

*ROUGH DRAFT song 2 guitar

Love iz not jealous, never does it boast.

My love adheres 2 her`s whenever we are close.

And even when we`re apart, near or far.

I keep her, keep her alive in my heart.

All tha tears fa years... WASTED.

Crying eyes lie behind lengthy blind,

shadows in tha pavement.

I been walked on,

told them mutha***azz 2 walk on-

Now tha shock gone-

straight kill`t that

with a 30-yacht 6 shotgun.

`bout that time, I was not done.

Tru love arrives once in a life-time, not seen to often.

Love is hard to barter so I captured minez

kn0 damn well it can`t b boughten-

found tha apple of my eye

while sortn thru tha seeds of tha rotten!

To: My Dear Mother

Tha cold night air stings to tha touch, frigid burns like acid.

While warmth that radiates from love, allow us to be placid.

With each cold winter front, blisters of the blizzard begin to form on my skin.

To my surprise, then you arrive with your warm touch - once again.

N` everytime I hug you, I hold you so tight & close..

in hopes that I won`t have to let you go - though I know..

it`s "that time" to make a life on my own.

But jus` know - young or old, when the creases in my cheeks fold

my Mother`s always been devoted to what she loves,

so my heart and soul remain close to home.

my 4ever Endeavor`z

My heart won`t beat fast and pass blood thru each artery..

forever,

yet my endeavors- are forever a part of me.

Whole-heartedly.

The art you see, iz left in remembrance.

I`m quiet, cold in tha ground

yet what lives 4ever in essence..

are scrambled letterz, memoirs, and hopez for this life

They remain 2 make an entrance- that part of me can`t die.