For my cousin

    Selling yourself short for a gang does not make you a man, neither does degrading women or using weapons, like your hands.                                                                 Instead they should be picking up a pencil to finish off school or signing your name on the dotted line because you're the new CEO of a company but no you were just a fool.    Using    your hands to roll that stuff, picking it up to take that first puff but between you and I that puff won't get you high enough to look God in his eyes so don't box with him because you have to realize your arms are too short and whatever words that roll off your tongue do hurt.                                                                                                   Those memories that pierce the back of your skull take you back to a time where you had it all, where your family and true friends had your back but you decided to trade them in because you thought you had your street credit down packed.                    Mama cries every night for your safety, she has never left your side and when your hand slowly crept out of hers she let out a silent cry. You were her baby bird and she kept you under her wing but you thought it was time to fly when you only began to sink.                                                                                                                            Mama always taught you love, respect and your worth. Jail was the next best thing but you didn't care because you've been caged up for nine months since birth so what's another cage,it won't hurt.                                                                                               You were missing the point. Where were you for your sisters birthday or your younger siblings first day of a new grade in school? The family never took away that chair you use to sit in because in the back of every ones mind they'd hope you come home and begin again.                                                                                                                     So when you decide to trade in those gangs, colors and handshakes, your family would welcome you home with open arms. You would sit at that dinner table and spill about your day and finish that home cooked meal mama placed on your plate.