(Dedicated to a deceased street friend named Manny's brothers, Hal & Torrie)

Say there brothers with your fine knits
On,
With your pink plaid shirt with rubies on the
Sides,
You're a heck of two brothers and bad to the 
Bone.

 
Could you perhaps spare him a five?
He really needs to run for a bottle of 
Wine,
And would you spare me the off the wall
Jive?


Don't tell me you're 
Broke
With the cash you both
Hold,
Because I'll no it's a 
Joke.


My brothers, my brothers full of pride and
Wonder
You know someday you're going to fall right to a 
Flop.
One day you'll be forced to 
Relinquish,
And Manny will go up higher and 
Yonder.

    
Do this, do that your mama always
Said,
And there you were right by her 
Bed.
The two of you acted as though Manny was
Dead.


     
Your love for him was like a hot piercing
Rod
Which stabs, kills, and
Destroys;
It gave him a faint feeling as to bow to a 
Mob.


My brothers, my brothers the street smart ones wit
Zeal,
Tell me, why does it still work for
You,
But it did not work for him?
It is now to late to make his broken heart 
Heal.

         
Manny was just one sad
Lad
Who tried to forget about the 
Past
As not to walk around looking furiously
Mad,
But he found himself moping on an old time
Drag.