this ghetto got its own moon, its own temtation, and
i whole new set of rules, this ghetto got its own pregnant night,
and brokerness, and drugs that bite,
and the moon, and the moon turns into glass.
this ghetta got its own blood, and guns,
and different time zone, and the moon,
and the moon turns to glass
this ghetto got its own bed,
and a night light that looks like the moon,
and the moon, and the moon turns into glass,
david gerardino
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/silent-45/
