some people walk in the rain, others just get wet..

Discussion in 'Open Mic' started by nO gOoD!, Jan 30, 2012.

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  1. nO gOoD!

    nO gOoD! Life Music :: Press Play

    Apr 18, 2001
    "Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet."
    (My interpretation – Make the best of life)
    Here’s my story. Enjoy.

    “..While some people get wet, he likes to pace in the rain,
    so for me it's medicating to fill these pages with pain.
    Let me tell you a story about this friend that I had,
    and how it all comes together with this pen and a pad..”


    He lived a hard life; his clothes were tattered and torn.
    You would think he was scarred right? His heart was shattered and worn.
    He lived his life in the streets, but he made it positive.
    He wasn't the type to be weak, because he had a cause to live.
    He said he'd keep it real, when he was never to blame.
    They said he should sleep with steel, 'cause he's a beggar for change
    a god-fearing man, you'd never know a hard believer.
    He never had any luck, a quarter short of a parking meter.
    Without a home, he felt he'd suffer the consequence
    of being out alone, as a sucker who's always tense.
    Life caught up with him, as his thoughts were drifting,
    always got a bottle of gin, but without a pot to piss in.
    He thought he'd never get anywhere living this lifestyle,
    “What ever happened to the nice child with a bright smile?”
    I asked, and he said, "I think I've told it so often,
    I know I'm forgotten, like my socks with holes at the bottom,
    Don't worry young man; this isn’t spite in my voice.
    I've made my bed to sleep in, and this life is my choice."
    I thought of why he did this, it was hard to know why,
    but I just dropped to my knees, and I started to cry.
    Tears in my eyes I asked, “Do you have pain or regret?”
    He looked to me at last, and grabbed the chain on his neck.
    “I do this for good reasons, I know my mother deserved
    a son she could believe in, but there are others that served.”
    It started to come together, his stash of money in zeros
    His early years were better, in the company of heroes.
    Instantly I knew that he deserved my respect,
    this man wasn't just homeless, he served with the vets.
    This isn’t the end yet, there’s a lot to go just wait for it.
    This man, he's a veteran, most of all a patriot,
    He’s seen death in his eyes, but they seem often disguised,
    when he's sitting on the corner, and he’s lost in the skies.
    So I looked to him and said, “I know you had a worse fate,
    I’m a soldier too, but how’d you get here in the first place?”
    He looked to me, sighed, and then he said with a breath,
    “War is complicated son, nobodies ready for death.
    But I’ll tell you that from the start, it was a shifty time.
    It all began, I was entering Vietnam in ’65.”
    He continued to tell the story, the moment was all of his.
    “We were there to protect Vietnam from communists,
    you know, you wouldn’t think this type of war was fair right?
    But we had ground forces, artillery and air strikes.”
    Despair was heard in his voice, but still I listened close
    “There were plenty of deaths, all we did was wish for hope.
    When we first arrived, and hit the ground there were many nations.”
    The radio blared “WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!! ANY STATION!!”
    As we spoke, people drove past and all they did was frown,
    if they only knew that this man was glad to be living now.
    I told him he could stop the story I was focused, proud.
    “Sir I understand, I’m going to war, I’m posted now
    to overseas, life’s moving fast, a blur to me.
    But I’m with the coalition, fighting insurgency.”
    He offered words of wisdom, only with a slight delay,
    “Keep your head down son, cause bullets have the right of way.
    You asked me of all things, how I landed on this cloud,
    Of what I call life, I’m alive, standing and I’m proud,
    Every person that I meet, happens to be a friend to me,
    I live my life on the street, because its my serenity,
    Everyday for me, is cherished, wind can take me when it blow,
    When your home safe and sound, believe me friend you’ll know.”
    Biotch! You wish you had a phone like mine...
  2. Chase Murda

    Chase Murda hostile enviroment

    Jan 25, 2004
    open mic of the week right here this whole verse is hot son keep it comin,
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