With pain comes control, tolerance and strength.
That helps the soul to hold on till the end.
With the rebel spirit growing strongly within.
It’s indeed a torture to still love this kin.

The chest of the present is not much different
In terms of liberty, of pleasure, of tranquility
At least the cane is trashed forever
But replaced with a hand that smarts like a killer

"You're older" says he "more mature, more wisdom"
But never releases does he, his grip on my freedom.
Caged in his palm with me is my bro & mom
And till this day we hang on, come what may.

The chest of the future seems bright with glitter
If I could live on with a mind much fitter
With talents and skills, with good health and a strong will
I’d make it. Oh yes! I’d show him real good.