Tough as Nails

We were born Jack, Tommy, and Will. But everyone knew us as Shorty, T, and Stretch. Shorty was youngest of are gang. He stole newspapers and sold them back to different drug stores. He always was the one who bought us the smokes. T was the tough guy. If you looked at us funny T was ready to start a fight. And me, Stretch, was always finding some way for us to get into trouble. We called ourselves the Main Street gang. No one fucked with us.

These 2 guys, they were my family. They were all I had. And I know I was all they had. We all had parents that worked the factories for 12 plus hours a day, and when they came home we were the last thing on their minds. We had each other so we did not care. Fuck um'.

 We always ran together. None of us had any desire to pick up new friends. We were to tight to let any outsiders in. We were the kings of Main street. Life was easy for us. Then we all had to grow up.

Shorty kept on moving up with what he was stealing. The newspapers turned into old ladies handbags. When that was not enough cash for him, he would jump cars while people were not looking at the gas station. He really started to make a name for himself when he started robbing every corner store he could hit. All this did was land a bullet in his back from some old cranky candy store owner.  He was dead at 23.

T got clean with me around the same time Shorty started hitting the stores. We saw him less and less because he had to much money to spend on every beautiful women in the town. T and I both landed a job up at the Factory were our parents worked. We promised it would only be temporary. We did not want to end up like our parents. But it was too temporary for T. He lost half of his right arm between to gears in the machine. He was done. He could not work anymore. He blames me for the accident. Last I heard he was living with all the local hobos at the junk yard now. 

As for me, I stayed at the factory, and sadly I am still here. I'm 35 and I have two boys I never see and who hate my guts. They stay out late with their friends running up and down the road breaking windows, and smashing mail boxes. I have no control over them. They as wild as I used to be when I was young, running the streets with Shorty and T. These shitty kids of mine make me miss those days. When life was simple when I was the king. When life was easy when I was tough as nails.

So it goes...