Poetry,  Vic Stanley

From the Thorns

Written by Vic S.

I came up around those shooters

Dodging all those rugers

The stress made me cooler

Now days I’m calm under pressure

All that violence made me an accessory

Most of what I’ve seen has been kept to me

Silence is the code

That’s omertà

Homie the streets prepared us

So now days it’s no fear bruh

What are you gonna do?

Kill me? Ha, please

Homie I lived that

I remember when Charles would serve me chicken out the back of that Hooters

Back when I ain’t have money to eat

The cash in my pocket was for the reup

I did dirt and learned how to clean up

Years later I’m in front of that same Hooters

Laid back in the Volvo

I lift the deuce deuce up (22 pistol)

Aimed it at that man

Told him I heard

“Dog you’ve been looking for me…”

Life goes on

I never really bothered with righting my wrongs

I just started living right

And watched my ills get gone

The past rolls on

My will is weak

But His Grace is strong

Patience is hard

But my stride is long

I move quicker than most

They tell me to go slow

I’m rolling with the Ghost

He’s holy

These folks can’t hold me

Dope game couldn’t mold me

Still I remember everything it showed

I remember Mac, KB, Shay and everything they told me

Strip and Magic be the homies

We grew up into OGs

I still be riding I’m my lonely

Never grinding with the phonies

I be so low, dolo (on my own)

That’s why it’s hard to find me

I survived that grimy life

In that organized crime thing

Don’t try me

Still you might see me anywhere

That’s just a day in the life

She hits me at 1am

Because she knows I contemplate in the night

I took G to cook up that caine in the night

Crack in the gas tank

Heroine taped under the seats

I’m a thief

Stealing the souls of fiends

The church folks hate when I start to reminisce

They asking me

“Vic where’s  Christ in all this?”

He’s right there with me

Why do you think I ain’t die?

No remorse

Still at times I cry

Completely repentant

Changed up my mind

No hate in my heart

No resentment

Memories stinging as I pen this

I escaped the streets,


Murder will be my ending. . .

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