BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
Gunshots
- Tonight I lay my head down, but the pressure never stops. Knowing that
- another kid just has been shot. Shot because of the signs he was throwing.
- cut and creased with his color rag showing.
- It was all fun and games for him, but now it’s just a shame. Like most kids,
- he did what he saw on TV, he replicated the game. Every time I saw him,
- that bandana he revealed, “Well homie let me ask you, how many cholos
- have you killed?” You just wear the colors; you ain’t down for the violence.
- This is why they got you, and put you into silence.
- I’m standing on your grave. With tears falling down, this memory of you is
- what I save. You had so much you could do, but yet you didn’t care. Every
- \time I think of it, these things I cannot bear.You passed before your time,
- you felt the shadows depth. So many things to say, before you reached your
- death. Now there’s no more luck, there’s no 4 leaf clover, As far as you’re
- concerned, your whole life is over. But if this is what you wanted, to be in a
- so called gang, You should have thought real hard,
- do you really want to bang.
- And now you walk into the light, it’s been so hard to say goodbye, you
- shine in every face you left behind, and I just hope to see you again
- in another life.
- Each day we are faced with decisions… what to do with our lives? To whom
- should we give our trust? As a young person, the road ahead seems so
- distant. We want what is in front of us, what we can grab right now. Our
- blindness to the possible future outside our immediate situation
- perpetuates our lack of vision to the endless possibilities that await us.
- Being faced with a life sentence more times than not anchors our
- arrogance to pause long enough to use our own thoughts. We begin to ask
- ourselves, “Is that what I really want –a reputation as a down, solid vato
- homeboy”? Granted some of us come from what is called a broken
- home –abusive parents, foster care workers, etc. Abuse in all its forms can
- destroy our foundation. But along the way have we not asked ourselves,
- “Is this the life I want –a throw away person. An outcast, an outsider who
- has lost all form of human reason and decency, someone who acts out of
- anger, someone who has no control over himself, And now you walk into
- the light, it’s been so hard to say goodbye, you shine in every face you left
- behind, and I just hope to see you again, in another life.
- Where do we draw the line between what’s going to benefit us to create
- a life with real meaning or a life spent completely without control inside a
- prison where almost every moment of the day our lives are monitored?
- This is a question only each of us can answer, because no matter what
- others may tell us, we alone make a difference in our own lives. We can
- choose to take our power back to wake up to maturity, and start taking the
- hard road ahead outside our affiliations, or we can surrender and continue
- to let others do the thinking for us. It’s our own life, our own story. Who
- writes it?? That is our decision to make. a person who will only keep losing
- control whether inside jail or outside, always under the supervision of
- some guard, police, probation officer, parole officer, correction officer? So,
- to whom do we owe our loyalty?
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