Ten thirty Sunday night, just closed shop,
Life still pushing hard, but haven’t lost hope,
Sky is clear with stars, tell myself God is watching,
Crowded street but still feel alone, just keep walking.
Put on earphones and first song, The Story of OJ,
Jay-Z’s first line, “I’m not black I’m OJ”,
“Please don’t die over the neighborhood that your mama rentin’,
Take your drug money and buy the neighborhood that’s how you rinse it”.
Feel motivated, want to make it in this life,
Build something for my children and wife,
Owe mama everything, she’s aging and deserves much loving,
Must keep that promise, a warm house at the border for living.
Feel tears competing on my cheeks, thankfully it’s night,
Let them roll down, no stopping now till I see the light,
Mentioned mama, think next time she should fly to Uganda when visiting granny,
Anna in West Nile is partially blind but still beautiful, she’ll be okay just needs money.
Last month one of her aunties who educated her passed on,
A teacher in a Mission school in Arua, no child of her own,
Grudgingly saw mama off with this reserved Kenyan man, just a teenager years ago,
Now mama is sad and tired, for the second time this year seen her cry and want her pain to go.
Now I know why tears in my eyes, feeling hopeless,
My little world is crumbling and I just feel helpless,
Blaming myself for everything in my life not going right,
Still beating myself for my girl leaving, started that fight.
Not this desperate pretty one here, it should be her texting,
Should be her asking if I’ve made it home safely, and insisting,
Should be resting, is a beautiful girl but maybe never mine,
More tears in the dark but that’s life, things fall apart some fine.
It’s alright not giving up yet, just have to wipe them tears,
Pull myself together, ask God to help me overcome my fears,
Still believe life is twisted, it’s bad today and tomorrow but not forever,
For a man a tear or two in the dark is okay, helps you focus more than ever.