Street Chronicles

Clocks tick slower, feel the weight of the grind,

Concrete jungle, shadows creep through the mind.

Dirty kicks scuff pavement, story untold,

Heart heavy as those chains dipped in fool's gold.

Freedom ain't free, gotta bleed for the cause,

Every heartbeat syncopates with the flaws.

System rigged, but we dance on the cracks,

Climbing uphill with the world on our backs.

Out here flexing dreams, bent but not broke,

Slinging words sharp, throat deep in the choke.

Roots in the gutter but the fruit’s gotta shine,

Turn mud to champagne, play God with the vine.

Echoes of my past rumble deep in my chest,

Ciphers in the basement, gritty tales confessed.

Dreams auctioned off like they're playing the block,

But I’m the architect, blueprinting the plot.

Born a storyteller, pen’s a loaded clip,

Ink bleeds red, let the narrative drip.

Building castles outta scraps, kings from decay,

Crowns crafted from dust, struggles on display.

Streetlights guide where the sun ain't reside,

Monuments of pain left where secrets died.

But from asphalt cracks, blooms a rose resilient,

Every bar I spit is my soul’s true brilliance.