12 Years of Survivor's Guilt

Survivor’s guilt cuts deep into my heartreflecting on the past until the moment I was caught.I try to figure out why I feel this way,having guilty feelings I can’t seem to escape.My homie is dead, but for what reason?For just trying to survive and play street defense.We didn’t ask for poverty,yet he was killed, and I was charged with armed robbery.His life was taken, our soul forsaken,me confined to a cell, him to a box.Survivor’s guilt is me in physical formand him, just a thought.One life cut short, another imprisoned.Closing my eyes, I can’t help but envisionthe life we chose. It wasn’t set in stone,but yet the decisions we made took a heavy toll.As I get older, survivor’s guilt weighs heavy on my shoulders.It plagues me, burdening me with feelings that are unforgiving.Shackled to this guilt, I can never be free.Survivor’s guilt, maybe a part of my destiny?As I figure it out along the wayI know my guilt is here to stay.Like a tattoo that is engraved, I represent your name.I wish you were alive so I could escape this endless pain.