Hindsight by M. Jackson

You know contrary to my many notorieties, in hindsight, the disposition of my own reality is something I've come to live with. One would call it the flip side of the coin, b.u.t then again, they aren't me. Consequently, from the skin I wear proudly. The sacrifices I hold dearly, in hindsight I don't ponder towards doubt. Only implement knowledge of self directed towards change. Never the less, I wonder if they know. Know that as a man I was suppose to vow to do whatever it took to grant those I love care about safety. Food in their belly, and clothes on their backs. In hindsight, the expectancy of credit was never my motivation. Raiser of kids not my own, father to seeds now grown. Less than a memory, only remembered by the title society gave me, GANGSTA. Easily forgotten is the intentions of the strong willed. Before it became the educated mind. As lyfe imitates art, amd art imitates lyfe. Our picture is painted by time's brush. Called to duty we teach, that the game you so call offered your loyalty to. Retrospectively, isn't a game at all. Doesn't love you back. In hindsight I wonder if they know. That it was once said: "There's two dates on your tombstone and everybody is going to read them, b.u.t the only thing that's going to matter is the time in between". Who have you forgotten due to lyfe's circumstances? The time in between to reflect on their worth is now, or are you that selfishly hindsighted.