No crowd of gathered hyenas..In savannah fields..
Around darkened alley ways..
Bravado is just a foreign word..
Forget about losing face..
Those thoughts are long gone..
Illusions of assets owned..
"We own these streets"..
Made clear in day light..
Like sea sand, slippering freely ..
Through fist of fingers..
Pact signed with false friendship..
"We stand here, we die here"..
Replaced by empty seats across..
Cold metal tables..
While we sit in bird’s cage..
A few girlfriends visited..
A few friends visited..
That was just in the early days..
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