Sometimes, I just want to close my eyes
Because vision is a gift, but also a curse
I just want to be able to close my eyes
And free myself from the excruciating pain
Free myself from the cries of my very loved ones
Free myself from the tormenting shackles of society.

My vision blurs, eyes burning red
But the tears just won’t come out
I want to cry. I need to cry.
Crying means that I still feel
It means vulnerability, something I cherish
But the shell just won’t crack.
Long ago, someone else, someone who smiled, who laughed
Closed the door to his castle, and chained it shut  n
For eternity.

At school, they tell me to “concentrate”
But how?
How can you concentrate,
When you’re fighting your own war at home
Struggling to survive on the streets.
Planning your every move.
I’m not like them.
I don’t have a warm home to go to.
Parents that tuck me in to bed saying :“I love you”
While the Socs study to support their grades
I’m on the streets grinding to support my family.

Poverty is like darkness.
It isn’t a thing. It’s a lack of thing.
It’s having an identity not concerned about self-worth
But about survival
Poverty is the limit you can’t break
It’s a backbreaking whip to the bone that leaves you crippled
Unable to stand up, crushing your soul
Do you know how it feels?
To struggle to wake up everyday
Because you know it’s not going to be better than yesterday
How it feels
Knowing that no one will ever love you
Because of who you are, what you were born to

But sometimes, sometimes you need to embrace yourself,
You need to look in the mirror, and find something beautiful
So what if I don’t drive a fancy Corvette
So what if I don’t have plush leather suits
Being rich has it down-sides too!
All of this violence, all of this hate will resolve nothing
Not all is black and white.
So what if I don’t have a mother or father
I have a gang, a gang that would take a bullet for me
That would die for me
And if I have to die a Greaser,
So be it.
I will stay gold.