Rec-Collect-ing Part 2: Carlton

You introduced me to 

The Westside 

When all my life

I was a Eastside 

Gresham Park boy

Helped me with my

Newfound "freedom"

Of being able to go

Places by walking or

By Marta, but having 

No homies that I grew up

Around

Not seeing my extended 

Family for months 

On end I thought mom

Moving in with my

Stepdad was the end

But it was truly the

Beginning of Privileged

Solitude; Beneficial Isolation 

Where video games,

Pizza, and cable kept me

Going everywhere and

Nowhere...

You were an outside kid, 

So I didn't see you much

Unless we were headed 

To or from school

Sometimes we caught 

The yellow bus

Other times we walked

Home from the Marta

Train station; I'll never

Forget that day we

Both walked together 

Towards home from

Marta one evening

We were talking about

Wrestling and Steve Austin 

When three boys in

All black rolled up

Who we both didn't 

Recognize but they

Knew me...

Or at least they knew of

Me...my cousins were

Moving work and I

Was going to be a transporter

But I moved out of Flintwood

Before that happened

It didn't matter to them

Because what happened was 

I was hooked, beat, and robbed 

By these three guys

Who didn't like my cousins

Too much

And Carlton got the same treatment,

I remember laying on my

Back after they went

Through my bag and

Found nothing but notebooks, 

Textbooks and homework 

So I found myself staring

Into a silver barrel

With the threat of it

Being the last thing I

Will see,

When a black caddy pulls up

And scoops my potential 

Killers up, driving off

My boy Carlton said,

"I will get them back",

Not knowing how much it

Would cost.

I never saw him again;

He went MIA two days later

Had friends who told me

He was found next week

In a dumpster at 13 years old.

I was too afraid to comprehend;

He was shot up and dumped 

And I was spared

But I had the kinfolks 

And there was no news story

And I didn't talk to my fam

Or my friends, so I didn't 

Know how to go to the

Funeral.

Just another stat in the ATL 

So it was water under

The bridge-

Blood under the trash-

Pain under my heart-

I stayed inside more 

Than ever, and I

Kept to myself as

I was still dealing

With what I found to

Be an abusive stepdad

Who was a drug dealer 

Himself...

When he saw me beat up

He kept me from my

Mom for almost a week,

Cleaned me up,

And introduced me to boxing,

Which I did for 3 weeks

Before quitting;

I was beaten enough 

Verbally from him

And emotionally from

Knowing he was beating 

My mom physically.

Carlton, I'd etched you

Out of my memory

For years;

Even forgetting your name,

If it really is Carlton...

I see your goofy smile 

While I'm sitting at

Monkey Joes watching

Evan jump in a Depot, 

Except I saw it when

I was 1st 13, and now

When I am 31...

Live In Peace, homie...

-J. Doeson