.:Passing me by:.
To little, To late
Present Day
In purgatory, the old man sat, reflecting on his life's past
.. Seconds, minutes, moments passed his last chance ..
Can't forecast a future of passion when you don't strive
So he remained abeyent all the while is mind nose dived
55 Years Earlier
.. He sits at twenty, his mind rippin' on the street corner ..
On about his noise n' keeps his beat former, poise proper ..
The party stopper, can keep a crowd goin' as he's flowin'
All the while knowin' what God gave him, what he's got goin'
.. For him, his talent is his fortune & he knows his motives
But he can't escape his motions & remains in psychosis
Deranged, lost in commotion and yet he's chosen unspoken
Verily he's broken, but he wont know it for some years past
Until the tears crash and splash upon his youth's aftermath
The after clap, of how he lacked motivation will finally seep
.. To infest his inner thoughts and creep deep into his sleep ..
Narration
So many have it, they're gifted but never tap that mental keg
And so they hobble for some cause as their dreams fade away
As shades of gray .. until they're invisible to all but individuals
Who know deep inside, they had potential windows n' credentials