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Up Until Now

by P Cyban

Stroll if you will down my memory lane,
I‘ll try to form an image by putting it in framd.
Christian wedlock for woman and man,
Made the best of Benning and cheap cereal brands.
Did a few years livin, near the military base,
They were growin old fast just tryin to keep pace,
Then young love made production grade face,
From here on out they’re in the white picket race.
Eighteen months later came my younger brother,
Whose presence in my life was only beat by two others,
Father and mother, the only ones who above yuh,
Sacrificed their dreams just to keep the roof over
Dreams aside we now move cross country,
Since four years old I’ve been west side bumpin,
Small town Medford, the freeway up and comin,
Papa wants tuh be a cop and do the legal gunnin.
Mama runs a day care for her kids tuition.
It’s a damn good thing they had some intuition,
‘Cause their parents weren’t there to show ‘em what they missin,
But like they always said, keep your eye on the mission.
My whole first decade was innocence well spent,
I was in no hurry to grow up and pay rent,
But fate itself conspired and took back the time lent,
Something in my life would finally make a dent.

My love’s for family and most others can’t stand me,
My mind changes often and sometimes it seems randomly,
Unaccepted socially for failure to act manly,
I trek on solo, only greatness right hands me.
And when I take a left plus two more to make a right,
Its only so you get 360 degrees of light,
But the light brings the bugs who only spit spite,
So I catch em in my talons like a humavian kite.

By the sixth grade I was Christian bred,
Didn’t stop to think that he was messin with my head
History teacher got me fearing bloody skies of red,
If Al Gore is elected it’s a Christian man’s dread.
So how fair is this to convince apocalypse,
Based on his beliefs and extreme politics,
Still a few years later we saw a dark prince,
Saudi in nature he left asbestos finger prints.
By the next week it was public school,
Dad off to Central Asia never knowin’ if he’s cool,
With this on the mind momma sharpens her tool,
She herself returns to the scholastic rules.
The struggle for me was thinkin’ highly of my self,
With the family distracted it was me and no one else,
So I coped like a dope with the games found on my shelf
Took on a fascination with the land of rice and kelp.
But getting lost in a land of make believe,
Means when life gets real, well, you’re gonna have to leave.
And eventually that’s what happened to me,
Shipped off to boot camp with a gamer’s knee.
I didn’t last long, 3 weeks at the most,
Spent a month and a half in the medical post,
Still needed proud pops so with love became engrossed,
I’ll get married like you did, make 60,000 gross.
Turns out with that decision I’d make her heart break,
When pops did to mom was the shaking it would take,
For 19 years union was the solid stake,
Holding up a fragile tent that revealed my face was fake.

Well they made it through, but my life didn’t.
It was different from here with my new life hidden.
Sold off my computer, the beginning of forbidden
The next part of the story would sound nicer if unwritten.
Followed little brother to a house with a friend,
A whole year of torment followed me within,
Self induced was the feeling of a win,
But temporary drugs ‘cause more problems when they end.
It was poor timing to decide to do the dark,
Dealing with the problems from my childhood’s start,
But natural inward thinking keeps good and bad apart,
With the life I was leading I’d have ended in a park.
But I had one advantage over the average youth,
It was my two parents, each cared enough for two.
So now I reflect on a past that could have ruined,
The future I have now is sized for bigger shoes.

04/24/2011

Posted on 04/25/2011
Copyright © 2024 P Cyban

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