Wes Moore
The death of his father made his mother cry
At a young age he did terrible in school
His mother questioned his father’s death, asking why
Where people on the streets did drugs to be cool
He nary wanted his father to die
His mother threatened military school
Wes longed for a two-parent household with a homemade apple
pie
Alas didn’t take her seriously; he was acting like a fool
Moving to the Bronx where people did drugs and drank
At private school, becoming a minority
As he moved away from his friends, his heart sank
He needed to make learning and going to school a priority
Nary acting scared and always being tough
Because the Bronx was out to be vey rough
Other Wes Moore
Oh the other Wes Moore
At the age of eight
Fully he lived life even though he grew up poor
The other Wes determined his fate
As he grabbed the knife
The absence of his father made him mad
He has already taken a life
The tears of his mother made him sad
Tony warned him about the drug game
Rocks he sold
But he got distracted with the money and the fame
To people not that old
Lives impacted by these drugs
When all Wes needs is love and hugs
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