Like the plant that insists on growing between the cracks of the pavement
ignoring that the odds are in favor of its death,
the slum boy who dreamed big and was never complacent
made it out of negligence and despair.
The hand of life never showed him tenderness
slapping death across his face
yet he never gave up on people or on himself.
The punches of life made him a man sick with hatred and drained of faith
but in between lyrics he found the strength to live.
Rhymes were a safe place to be
when the world around came to crumbles.
Mental illness was never a phase
it was always part of himself like clouds in rain or area in space.
Betraying a friend was too much to bear
taking a lethal leap by jumping 10 floors.
By blurring the lines of dreams and reality
death was not intended,
but he left the world oblivious of his actions.

<i>Mañana será otro día</i> no longer applied.