With luck I’ll be out,

for these streets ain’t nothin’ to scream about

I’m swallowed and discarded,

Ample folks live shallow and broken or cold-hearted

I’m not for this life, I’m for livin’

Before it attacks, I make my decisions

I’m carving a wedge, past and I ain’t lax

I just don’t wanna be over the edge

With hope I’ll be reaching a peak,

for these streets are too hard and its common mentality–

too weak, so to speak

I try to make a map to direct me away from the dead-end

I pray that my victory and destiny

isn’t just fashioned by me, but God-sent

I dream that on my brink of creativity

that I not fall or sink to depravity

I can’t afford belligerency to disrupt my tranquility

As I push forward my hand and forever

I won’t be stressed, for I possess the finesse

To be living life serene; pristine, what I convene

Is what I convey, a sense of wisdom, not given to naivete

I won’t be stricken with uneasy disease

This easy treaty to seize me strikes, not to appease me

And sleazy undoing set out to challenge and decrease me

This fast lane is path on the wane to lead me nowhere

And what about my friends that share not my goal to get out of here

I can’t ditch honor, yet I can’t switch back or else I’m a goner

Gone are my pretense of oversight,

slighted with suspense of bile dispense

Goodwill shows my ethics,

and a textbook sense of decorum as my stance

As I stand now I vow I will make my pledge–

That I will not be living over the edge!