View From The Bridge

View From The Bridge

There's this spot out at Flushing Meadow park I use to sit at, and smoke Newports.
Some steps on the otherside of a bridge that connected it to the street, i'd sit there.
When things got really bad, I'd sit there, wtih my walkman on,
Listening to something, anything, Jansport strapped loosley to my back.
I looked out at a lake we would never dream of swimming in.
That dirty, murky water was like a mirror to me,
I could see myself in it, see the past present and future.
the beatings, the daily visits from the cops, friends that passed away,
the noose on the roof that i learned was my brothers,
the anger I felt when he told me he kept it there just in case..
not havin' s**t, just being hungry..for life..for anything.
Feeling hated all the time, and having no outlet for the angst I felt, aside from my words.
Great Times those were, those prolonged moments that just blew past me.
I had no idea that at that moment, I was being defined.
Youth truly is wasted on the young, and if only i knew, that the pen was in MY HAND,
I had the power to write my own story, and my own future with the ink from my past.
i am now 28, and things are so much different.
i have the things i never dreamed possible sitting on those steps with my Newports.
I've since traded my angst in for anger, and that anger drives me forward.
But the more things change, the more they stay the same, I am still me.
I am just a smarter me, and hopefully a stronger me.
I'm sure one day I will pass by there, and see a kid sitting at that exact spot,
looking out at that dirty, murky lake. he may even be smoking a Newport.
I might stop and talk to him, see where he's at. Ask him where he's been, where he's going.
Or i may just smile,and pass him by, knowing he's on a journey too.
He'll get there, man. He's gotta. Kids like us don't give up. Not Ever.