Our Streets are Filled With Blood.
Our Veins Are Filled With Pain.
Our Lives Are Filled With Hurt, That We Just Cannot Explain.

My Words may be too Deep, Too Steep, For the Regular Teenager Mind to
Comprehend... But i Cannot Help my Feelings that Are Within.

There is a Tremondus amount of The innocent ones Blood Shed
There is an uncomparable Ammount of the Tears Mothers Have Bled
Yeah i Wrote it Right. no need to Check your Sight.

Just outside the Door Is a Battle Feild... Where Wars Are Fought.
and our Innocent Youths are Killed.

While in School, They’re Dealing With the HeartAche, HeartBreak, Deep Depression,
Aint a Age Limit To be in that State.
Of Mind, In Time, Young ones Will Find, That They dug Themselves a Deeper Hole,
Following a Rebelious Course, Forcing their Parents To Let Go.
When God Knows We need Them to Hold On, As Long, As they Can We NEED Them to Help us Stand.

And if we Cant see That, And if We cant Count the Little Blessings that We Got,
And if To The Streets We Give Our Lives Away, Instead of Striving to Do Our Best EveryDay,
Then We Are Continuously Diggin this hole Deeper, Diggin Our Own Grave,
Under Captivation As We Become Rebellion's Slave.

Decieved into Taking a Course of independence At an Early Age, Jus Craving To Be on Our Own. Pressured into Believeing That What We are Doing is Right, When We Are Really in the Wrong.

Can someone save our Youths? or are they to far Gone?