(When it rains it pours)
Veterans get scarred from war then come back and be just as poor.
Poor like the people they’ve come across, whose homes have been tossed, countless lives that were lost, during that war.
Can’t find a job, no shelter in sight, doesn’t matter if your skin is dark or light bright, treating you like the rest of us people, (I would be tight).
Wondering if my current lifestyle was worth the fight.
My heart is torn. You mean to tell me I’m still a “nigga” even in uniform?
That’s got me all fucked up in the head… Even after the shit, I’ve seen overseas? Nah. That’s dead (literally).
I saw the Manchurian Candidate; my brother said that shit was light… “That movie shit will really fuck you up” he might be right.
It’s no way in hell I would willingly enroll myself to fight the devil’s fight. I can’t imagine.
Brainwashed into thinking you’re in it for a worthy cause, with Uncle Sam’s tight grip on your balls, believing there was a battle (but really you’re just strapped down between four walls).
Fighting for a cause, not really knowing the point. Lost count of the missiles you had to blow, now, just to be labeled “criminal.”
A thug because you got caught smoking a joint, what’s the point?
“We are the kindest, bravest, warmest people on this earth” thank God I know my worth (and a lie when I hear it).
After that rain…God’s promise right?
What do you say when there’s no rainbow in sight?