Fading Nostalgia

I’m fresh out of the house of corrections. Back up on the block. Dodging torpedoes and the crooked time out.

Thugged all the way out. With gold teeth shining almost blinding. It should be a crime how fly I am right now.

Beef and broccoli timberlands. Brand new unlaced so they won’t choke. North Face jacket with hard plastic in my pocket.

Boot cut jeans. I couldn’t do that tight skinny jeans shit! My brown and green sweater from old navy.

My brown gap hat with courage imprinted on the front. Cell phone going off on my hip equals more money.

I was 22 or maybe 23. Somehow I must have known magic. I litterally made a quarter million disappear. I ain’t going to lie though… Somehow I miss those days when all of my guys were here.

We took a picture that day. It was 32 of us. If I could take that picture now. There would be (not including me) there would be only six of us…….

I guess death and permanent incarcerating knew magic too. I kind of Miss those days when we would all walkthrough the streets 30 deep.

We stopped cars walking to the gas station. I miss my guys….

R.I.P. All the guys! Free all the guys too!

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