Dying to Live The eulogy of our youth Becomes a song through repetition That confuses our cries for glory While we share endless war stories Pastors cop pleas with our hearts While mothers passionately pray for change In those committed to dying hard Until the final ticks of the game Eric just celebrated his last Christmas Young Fred barely missed seventeen I shed five grams of tears According to the reading of my triple beam Murdered in cold blood By lost souls and young thugs In search of a divine love But instead finding hollow slugs The coach sat me on the bench For what appears to be a five-year stretch Even though it's hard in the paint It's obvious that I'm blessed So many things to live for So little time to live To remain frozen in images of the past While life's moving like it is But I will never forget the struggle Nor those who've lost their way Those of us who aren't strong Nor those who've reached their grave We're all reflections of one another At various times in our lives So we all lose pieces of ourselves Anytime one of our brothers dies -Taylor Maxie, Jr. a.k.a. Johnny Tremain