A story of a young soul
Whose being was carved
By the haze and disappointment
Of his past of innocent pain

The slums and drugs brought him down
In order to keep his family afloat

He sat in disgust and dismay
He was an animated child
With strings from that of a puppet

His belief of control was a mirage
From a fantasy
Played as a noose
Choking his dreams out of him

That if he were to carve a hole through the hollow oak tree
He would again be at another dead end in life

Until one day
His slum filled life sped to a cliff
Gun shots were fired
After a deal became unfair

His blood trickled down his torso
Shining in the moonlight

This bump gave him the desire
Desire to explore a new path
It gave him the key to unlock the doors of his trapping hell
To allow him to leak past
To proceed to a new life without a disguise

The hatchet of his bad choices
Were no longer going to hold him captive