Before I Got Here
Before the first verse was written, before the city’s harsh lights and sirens became a soundtrack, there was a plan—a purpose. But that map was burned, the rules blurred, and the path forward was anything but clear. With nothing but pain packed in his bag, the young man followed the sound of opportunity, chasing dreams that seemed just out of reach.
Raised in a broken-down town where prayers bounced off tin roofs and truth was a rare commodity, he learned early that dreams alone don’t feed hungry mouths. Chalkboards held lessons, but the streets erased them with every passing siren. He watched his brother cuffed for simply being on the stoop, while the privileged filmed crimes and called it entertainment.