We made a living bringing light, giving power, troubleshooting,
All this done to keep me busy, Outta trouble, duckin shootings.

At the time I didn't think he was tryna' give me any freedom,
He was tryna' get me out the hood, safely livin', really Freedom.

From age eleven I was told to get up early 'come on son’,
Never lacking, always crafting, fixing houses one by one.

He was teaching, even preaching about the work we had to do,
As his son, I watched and learned, the gift of working, paying dues.

The money kept me legal, away from the street life,
All affording me some freedom, a break from the bleak life.

We stayed working together up to college years,
But fate had other plans, sickness and casket tears.

My journey as apprentice was adjourned abruptly,
Cancer hit, chemo blip, it was over so suddenly.

To this day I still wonder what would it be like.
If we were still a team in business, pursuing the sweet life.

I appreciate the journey, jobs, and estimates,
All apart of my short story, a page of my testament.

Rest in peace Dad.


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