It’s the youthful vigour they say,
Idleness, time and adrenaline,
A gun shot, a stab wound,
Slowly another life ebbs out,
To a twisted mob the villain hailed a hero,
Crowned a king in the besmirched alleys!
Like the bald eagle he wears a crown,
Only his is tainted with murder and deceit,
Uncultured and untrained he bluffs,
Forgetting the winds see and hear it all!
Cuffed and caged the sun slowly sets,
And like the eagle his life ends in solitude,
Not in the pride of a ripe old age,
His own life had barely begun,
The joy of right living abandoned at will,
It is a life he will never know!
