My life as a gang member


People ask me how it feels

To be influenced by others to steal

And to commit all sorts of different crimes

Without ever earning a single dime.

People ask me if I’m scared

When they find out that I’ve been snared

By the gang who hang out in my neighbourhood

Without ever doing any good.

People ask me why I decided

To join them, and if I was guided

By thoughts of community and caring

Or if I simply just wanted to be daring.

People ask me why I lied

When my parents spoke to me and tried

To warn me about what would transpire

If these people I continued to admire.

People ask me when I noticed

Because fora long time I didn’t have the remotest

Idea that these people were even bad!

I suppose I just felt really sad.

People ask me what I said

When talking to my so-called friends filled me with dread

Instead of the happiness I desired

And the friendship I thought I’d acquired.

People ask me how it feels

To be trapped in a gang and have to conceal

Everything I really think.

Sometimes I feel like I’m on the brink

And that I might one day soon just sink


To nothing.

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