Wasting the Youth

platonic,ironic, you said your agnostic? you haven't found god yet? 
it would take more than Jesus to change your ways,
often days I'd hate to say
 I see you getting arrested,going to school on Saturdays
but know I can't blame you,got problems at home, 
moms hooked on on drugs, locked in her room alone, 
dads always working,wants to be left alone when he gets home, 
but time is constant, nobody to watch you grow
out on the streets, had to look after yourself. since about 13. 
 its a trying ordeal, no child should need to know how you feel. no guidance, causing you to fall for the first guy when he showed interest,
didnt matter how old he was,how tall he was, if he was kind,or his face needs a redesign,all that mattered is he was there
unfortunately he wasn't a great dude but you held on cuz you were scared of being left alone. a spot reserved for you're parents, but they failed you  neglected your growth,damned your opportunity to be something more
than someone's baby  they left you home alone
Platonic irony, you say you're agnostic?
Haven't found God yet, or is it diagnostic?
More than Jesus needed to change your ways,
Some days, I hate to say, I saw your future haze.
Arrested whispers, Saturday school,
lack of praise
But blame you?I don't hell i I can't, when home's a broken wing.
Mom locked in, a drug-soaked, shadowed room,
Dad's weary silence, sealing your lonely tomb.
Time's relentless march, no witness to your climb,
Forced to survive, a child robbed of its prime.
(Verse 2)
Thirteen, a street-forged soul, a trial untold,
No child should carry burdens, stories left to grow cold.
No guiding hand, just hunger for a touch,
Falling for the first gaze, wanting oh so much.
Age blurred, kindness a forgotten art,
Just presence, a desperate, broken start.
He wasn't worthy, a phantom of your need,
But fear held you captive, a poisonous seed.
A parent's vacant space, a hollow, empty throne,
Neglect's cruel harvest, a future overgrown.
(Verse 3)
Damned potential, a chance you never knew,
More than a baby's mother, a life breaking through.
Not a "bitch," a "ho," a label's cruel design,
Your growth arrested, a tangled, broken vine.
Alone, you yearned for warmth, a hand to hold,
But they left you empty, a story left untold.
Stunted, fractured, a life forced to bend,
When all you needed was a loving, constant friend

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