[THE TRAGIC TIMES OF A ONCE BIG MAN]
THE ONE WORD TOPIC WAS MISERY AND IT WAS CHOSEN BY Lynette Creamer-Myricks. THANK YOU EMPRESS.
THIS IS THE MUSIC FOR THIS TALE OF WOE...
http://youtu.be/
Somewhere in an alley in the heart of a city someone fights for his life while wallowing in misery...a victim to trying to hide from the strife of life.
Days of these that have passed before his reddened eyes as he sucks from the bottle of courage that lays at his right hand...a torn and defeated man.
Once a basketball was his key to the better life as he schooled all them fools...grades padded by a system that could'nt give a damn.
All the words that he could read were on a first grade spelling test as he made all the ladies swoon...all they saw were dollar signs as he graced the front page time and time again.
A big ego, a big dick, a big S.U.V...the life of materialistic dreams.
But he could'nt read.
His coach played him like a violin...his woman played him like a slot machine...his agent played him like a fish on a string.
Bought all he could on payments and credit...living the life of a king...before he blew out his knee in a pick up game.
The fall was so slow that it seemed like slow motion in a science fiction thriller...spinning as he crashed into the cold hard ground.
The only job he could get was as a valet at a local upscale hotel where they paraded him out and told his tale.
Time and time again.
His ex never answers the phone and his children pity him as he walks by smelling of decay.
Cause he could'nt read he never got his college degree...dropped out and became a star in the N.B.A.
Now the gun in his left hand grows more comforting by the minute as he tips back the last of his drink and places the barrel at his temple.
Misery no more for the inner city star.
THE ONE WORD TOPIC WAS MISERY AND IT WAS CHOSEN BY Lynette Creamer-Myricks. THANK YOU EMPRESS.
THIS IS THE MUSIC FOR THIS TALE OF WOE...
http://youtu.be/
Somewhere in an alley in the heart of a city someone fights for his life while wallowing in misery...a victim to trying to hide from the strife of life.
Days of these that have passed before his reddened eyes as he sucks from the bottle of courage that lays at his right hand...a torn and defeated man.
Once a basketball was his key to the better life as he schooled all them fools...grades padded by a system that could'nt give a damn.
All the words that he could read were on a first grade spelling test as he made all the ladies swoon...all they saw were dollar signs as he graced the front page time and time again.
A big ego, a big dick, a big S.U.V...the life of materialistic dreams.
But he could'nt read.
His coach played him like a violin...his woman played him like a slot machine...his agent played him like a fish on a string.
Bought all he could on payments and credit...living the life of a king...before he blew out his knee in a pick up game.
The fall was so slow that it seemed like slow motion in a science fiction thriller...spinning as he crashed into the cold hard ground.
The only job he could get was as a valet at a local upscale hotel where they paraded him out and told his tale.
Time and time again.
His ex never answers the phone and his children pity him as he walks by smelling of decay.
Cause he could'nt read he never got his college degree...dropped out and became a star in the N.B.A.
Now the gun in his left hand grows more comforting by the minute as he tips back the last of his drink and places the barrel at his temple.
Misery no more for the inner city star.
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