A Bridge of Broken Glass
Old habits die hard, yet a flicker ignites,
A spark of hope in these cold, lonely nights.
Streets may whisper promises, temptations gleam,
But freedom's a chance to rewrite, not a broken dream.
These hands, stained with shadows, can learn a new trade
, Building futures, not leaving lives betrayed.
You say I can be the key, unlock a safer door,
My story, a beacon, warning others to explore
The brighter paths, the classrooms, not the chilling dark,
Education's a weapon, leaving its righteous mark.
Let me speak to the young, the ones I led astray,
Show them the emptiness that follows a violent day.
I'll paint a picture with words, not the fear in their eyes,
Of sirens wailing, futures lost beneath bruised skies.
Rehabilitation's a seed, needs fertile ground to take root,
Give me a chance to plant it, bear the honest fruit.
Jobs, not gangs, that's the answer, a future to hold,
Not stolen wallets, stories waiting to be told.
This second chance, a fragile thing, I'll hold it close and true,
Because a reformed soul can rewrite what others view.