Life As An Art

There are certainly things that cross my mind about how life was being lived. If I’ve learned one thing, it’s that life was rough. It wasn’t just about taking names and kicking ass, it was about the people who suffered among you from all kinds of things. It was about who’s life was going to be on the line next without daddy’s combat boots and your guns. Wasn’t about who could outrun you in a fast fight cause you had to learn to keep your head up whether you were you were up or down. You can live day and night without them trying to catch you. Cause in the end, you’re a waste, you’re not a thug or a gangster or in the army anymore. You’ve got no one to fight for; no hoodlum to carry for your causes coz your boy’s down. But you should never have to worry because you haven’t been through this. Life is beautiful and you don’t have a clue. Life is art, and art in itself is everything you’re doing. You strive for enlightenment you strive for the greater good and you strive for reformation. You should strive to come home; to your pride and your dignity as KING.