been running for too long; so then it's time to give me mine

if you ain't sinning with us
then just mind your business.
this city is the only thing
i've ever truly known.
the buildings, hoods, and
the high rise's remain
to me like a map placed on
the back of my hand.
I'm what you call a
cartographer, but it's un-
official so don't go yappin'
that across this town.
I can't help thinking
what these house's and building's
would look with chalk outline's.
This would be suitable, back then
I was a different person than
I am now; and those building's
hold my memory's, those things
that should be left there, remain
in the hallways like a hustlin'
ghost; hell, sometimes I'm wishin'
it had all been just an illusion,
that those years I spent chasin'
nothing will turn out to be me dreaming.
Here's hoping, here's wishing
that the sitoation I'm waking
to isn't the one I went down
to slumber in. But it's not even
seven and my alarm clock is blaring
so I know it's not heaven I'm facing;
but the consequence of the decisions
I had poorly made in my misspent
youthful days. I'm like an ancient
book, the cracks and bends in
the spine are there for a reason.
Proof of purchase; the yellowing
of my skin like the aging
pages of old doctorone's; but then
and again I see through my current
situation. It can't, you know, rain
all the time; so I keep on analyzing
my past, I spend hours combing
the things I've done but it ain't
because I can't let go of who I had been
or can't just accept what I had done;
but the future is unknown, this everyone
agree's upon, but to the wiseman
you can see past the sun setting
in the east horizon. The future can
be predicted to a degree of certain-
ty; just look at the terrible deeds done
by you in the day before this one,
and you'll see the outcome that's bound
to arrive. You can outrun justice and
responsibility, but natural law is
the chain that holds us here, keeps us down.
Time and mortality has us always praying
for things we don't need, for something
that is irrelevant to the reason for our being.
I don't say my nightly prayers, I find
it hard to speak to no one, to ask god to bring
me praises and gifts to ease my existence;
but I do give thanks to whatever is in
control of granting me one more awakening.
I then go and get paper so I can write down
the things I did right, what I did wrong;
and jot in fine print all the little things
I will change, not about other's but my own
characther traits. I believe not in heaven
but I do believe in something like salvation.
Peace and utopia can be achieved in
every day existence; just be content
with what you got not what you want, nor think
you do need. Let me tell you, we came in
to this world with absolutely nothing
but that's fine, baby, that's all we need to keep on
with this thing called living, I keep surviving.