DESTINY'S HUSTLE

In a dusty street at the end of the town Where shattered dreams often settles down He woke up just before the morning rise Not for school but for the fight To fight, to survive and to run Why he woke up everyday before the sun Eyes on the ground sack on my shoulder Full of bottles, tins and cans for buyers He has a skill, his hands knew art Setting tiles with accuracy in his heart But the tools in reality he lacks Hope lost, hardship hits him with it's bat Hustling one afternoon, drained and weak Dust on face hope looking bleak He met a man with gentle eyes Who saw his pain behind disguise Life they say can turn around When heaven opts your time has come He bought his tools, gave him a start And ignites new hope inside his heart Simple yet profound the youngboy's tale Life is a journey, not a place Today you may walk slow in disgrace Tomorrow you may as well lead the race When God decides to handle your whistle Nothing can stop your destiny's hustle Even if you tie a wrapper to run You'll still win when your time has come