Where it ends was really where it all began for me. . .

The trailer park dwelling that held me 15 revolutions/
Devolution into societal ruins was the doing of my father's short-sighted, poor-minded economical plan/
Much akin to the AMC piece of shit tin cans which refuse to ran/
Sadly, not because they were running on E/
Gaslines would have proved passtimes—nope, in a plummet were we/
But out of all the nightmarish blocks, we rocked the last lot!/
Like we could rearrange the tragedy of the foreshadowing our visitors got to see/
Like a longer journey would assure me that they wouldn't laugh at "#50"/
Diamond in the rough?. . ./
It's tough, next to impossible to snag the image of a hot rolex inside a Gucci purse rising above the worst dispersed garbage bags/
It's a foolish thought: When you outlie a hellish spot, you don't outshine, but simply absorb the smell of rot/
My people in Maple Lane know the pain, having to turn on the Weather Channel everytime the roof resonates from a drop of rain/
Shall I explain? Spring of '96, maybe May, was weak, the fucking "house" got thrown sixteen feet! Strong wind, hey?/
Without delay, I ask you if you've known the day when your own grandather kicks you out with nowhere to stay?/
You? Living out of that Holiday Inn? No way./
Next day twas off to school for some more ridicule. Kids sure do think white trash is cool/
Concerned teachers pry for some time and ask away: "Is it True?"/
Nellys got nervous then, hand out for the telly to dial social services/
Trust me as I rush thees/
Where it ends is the worst place for kids/

Fin.

-Because it's a personal account, you may not feel the attachment to the topic "Where it Ends". But for me, that was what I first thought of as "Where it Ends." So please try to understand that when viewing this verse.