Under the moonlight of this dark and lonely night,
I can hear the sounds of a gangsta’s cry.
He’s tossing and turning, reminiscing on some painful memories,
Some that he’s blocked out for so long.
On this night he can’t help it and takes a stroll down memory lane,
Soon these memories become more than he can bear.
He tries hard to block then out but he can’t.
They play out in his mind over and over again,
They’re memories of the lost love of his children and all his loved ones.
These are memories he once cherished but now come with too much pain.
For so long, many have called him a gangsta or a cold-hearted person,
So somewhere along the way he puts on a mask or front, as others would say.
He acts as if he has no heart or feelings anymore,
But on this night he is unable to hide behind the mask he’s worn for so long.
Tears escape his eyes and stream down his face.
He makes no sound but the tears sound like a waterfall as they fall on his mattress.
I try hard to block out all the pain I hear coming from the gangsta’s lonely heart,
Unable to block it all out, I sit up and realize.
I realize all those sounds were coming from within my cell and within my soul,
As I was dreaming and reminiscing on the sweet memoires of yesterday.
Juan Ramirez Jr.