The Diary
The testimonies of street kids, single moms and dads, drug addicts and the dealers who supply them.
This is for the dreamers and the visionaries who create them, the cries of missing children everywhere lost in their slumber.
These are songs of musicians and poets, mute to the ears of society, yet loud in the minds of those who would read and listen.
Letters left to unborn children awaiting life outside.
The music of prisoners trapped in cells waiting to be free.
Fallen angeles who now walk on the darkside.
Here are forgotten memories of those who fell off the map and rest eternally.
This is for the lovers, the heartbreakers, the heartbroken, and me.
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Word from the Streets
