The Glory...

And it was just the perfect day for every wrong thing to happen and in between the screaming of his parents and the gunshots outside he put on his headphones. His mood changed with every passing song on the mix CD his cousin gave him, he went from wanting to cut somebody's throat open to the sounds of Big Pun's song Twinz to looking into the eyes of a beautiful girl while reciting the lyrics of LL's Around The Way Girl. Either way the music allowed him to escape the music painted a vision of a fantasy of his and the lyrics provided the voice that allowed him to speak up in his dreams that he couldn't do in real life. He could just relate to the music but he didn't know why he didn't grow up selling drugs or boycotting the system. He just admired the power that these emcees possessed when they blessed the mic with there voices and they were such an impact to him he could remember every line even when the music wasn't playing. He long ago decided that he wanted to rhyme when he grew older. He kept his notebook handy in case he had an impulse to start jolting down lyrics.

Who rhymes sicker than me

Show me and I will defeat he

or her I don't care either gender

I'm the real deal your the great pretender

Young but soon I'll become a legend

So watch your mouth before you offend.

As time passed his skill became much more apparent.

My thought process is like a revolver

and my pen is like the robber

Busting out lyrics that'll blow your brain

much like the girl that you sustain

treat her right because you know it's mutual

like Washington where cashing out is habitual

because she wants this but you need that

so in reality opposites do attract

that's why I surround by phonies

but I order around these cronies

like my name was Capone

Untouchable mafioso so leave me alone

and fuck the police because they kill the innocent

All they want is dividends we struggle to pay rent

while I want to fight the power

my mother says with school I'll be devoured

so if I my ink inspires I'll be a scholar

or my blood spills and I become a martyr

I'll leave my imprint on earth

Make my enemies curse my birth

Everyday he would continue writing lyrics until he had over a hundred of notebooks filled. One day he came from school his parents were still arguing and he went to his room and turned on his CD player only to find out his headphones had lost there sound in one ear. He couldn't concentrate in a house with no distractions to the chaos around him. He left the house and stepped outside and the moment he did a stray bullet hit him the chest. As he fell he has one more fantasy playing in his mind and that was being on stage and having the spotlight on him and he walked forward and there in his daydream he lost his breath. The music kept him alive and although he never became a scholar or a martyr. He experienced his glory where the lights shined on him forever.