WEBVTT
Kind: captions
Language: en

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This is called Clarkson Avenue.

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A wasted potential hugs the corner

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of the street side like it was based on an extra warm

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sunny day back when the real world had no meaning.

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Truth reflected through those eyes

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if you ever cared enough to look at them.

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The real world still has no meaning.

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Hope is deceiving and words like it

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are thrown around to keep us content

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with presently feeling defeated.

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Like a slave who unknowingly fears freedom.

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Preferring instead to slip away, only when dreaming.

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But he knows we are no different

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from them in those ways, except today

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we have more ways to hide those feelings.

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He thinks, all in all, were just the victims.

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So he plays the role of the innocent villain

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also slipping away only when dreaming.

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This black man who is the father

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of man who I call my brother, man

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is standing in the gutter, but he is not a gutter man.

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See, most have already written him off

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as a failure since he was mixed as seman

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never knowing the true potential in him that's now wasted

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because in him, no one truly ever actually believed it.

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So he gets up at the crack of dawn

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just about every morning

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and walks down a path that he, deep down,

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he finds disgusting

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and on his walk wonders a range of thoughts

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from why rappers abuse powerful words for no reason.

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To why politicians treat the truth like a puddle

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dancing around it to not get their feet in it.

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Holding a fear of him with every breath

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they breath in.

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So for lack of a warmer embrace,

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he hugs the corner of the street side

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like it was base back in the days of freeze tag,

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on an extra warm sunny day

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back when the real world had no meaning.