you're no hero either, so give it to me straight, would you?

i don't like this, this pressure
to succeed, to 'be someone', to fit
into someone else's little vest they've fitted for you

and then they ask you to help with the tightening
all the rules, all the boxes and molds and the bullshit
"what, you won't help us build your house? on
our block, right next door,
so we can watch you?--

i watched those boys talk their shit, street
ballin', with their shrunken, base-head faces,
pushin each other around like boys, pretending
to not hate it all, their mommas and their mommas men
their death-shaped houses and wondering what it's all for
they're thrilled to death to be alive, just for today, and they hate anyone who tells them otherwise

they even gave me that look, that look that said, don't fuck with us.
we've been fucked too many times before, our asses are sore, and we're just looking for a reason to do the same

to someone like you

so i play their game, i shoot the hoops and i cry out inside, for their pain, for these boys who will be men soon and they don't know how or when or why, they just know, that soon enough, all their second chances and extra hope will be used up, and they'll be going to real prison now, where

they don't care about your shitty childhood and that you never really got a chance
or that your momma never cared about you, and you never even got a chance to remember your dad


i'm digressing now, i was talking at first about how we never get to be who we really want to be
well, fuck them, fuck them and their answers, i still want to make some mistakes
and give that superhuman man we all turn to
a chance to show me how
to do this.