Nights are calm, the moonshine bleeds through the cover
Of the clouds, and reaches the face of a fallen brother
The fleeting moments in his eyes realize a fate
As his soul ascends to the front of heaven’s gates
Back on the street, others struggle to gather
If this soldier wasn’t a soldier, would his death matter?
Society acts a certain way, u cant explain
Based on a job, family, reputation or fame
If his family wasn’t trying to live in the ghetto
Would the soldier stay where he was, relax and settle
Was it the fact that others needed someone to look up to?
Because they have nobody, it can almost erupt you
He felt it was his job, to allow the youth to aspire
To believe in dreams, seems u can always go higher
But others didn’t realize the possibilities
They blame the successful ones for their hostility
So they let loose the bullets destroying the dreams
For what? He wasn’t a rich man, just like u and me
See u can change the lives, no matter the wealth
Then I realized, this soldier wasn’t a soldier, merely myself