Photo Negative

My mother was a custodian, alone with kids
Trying to make sure her four boys would grow to men
Ignored the loneliness
I was an emotional mess

My bros were punching holes in things
And I learned my role from them
Got punked by some older kids
Went home with it
And was told to never fold again

I had to hold my own against the local threats
And that's something I won't forget
And ever since, I wanted cold revenge
But I weighed a buck ten, soaking wet
And so did my friends

So we stuck together for our own defense
From the choking grip like the thorns on a rose's stem
That was forced to grow from stone and brick
In a cold indifferent world
that's known for doping, drinking, throwing fists
And now my tooth is chipped
And now my nose is bent

And now I'm the only one left
Cause most are dead
And now the road is split
And I chose to go where hope exists

And cleanse my soul of this erroneous notion
That there's no controlling it
The photo tends to be negative
when you focus with a broken lens

And you're not exposed to things
And only shown contempt
But I've been developing through growth a bit
leaving myself open for the light to grow within