my life is so full of corruption
drugs money prostitution drowning my streets that i call home
home of all death with the motion of a bullet
piercing holes in hearts and minds of young soldiers
who fought for survival
women selling themselves for nothing more than a white pebble
on a flea infested mattress
look at baby girl watching in her corner as tears leave those
beady little eyes
i cry out to my streets that i call home
end this nightmare
crack fiends injecting poison into their veins
eyes rolling to the back of their head
then leaves them slumped over the arm of the chair
dead for days or weeks to come
i cry out to her streets that i call home
end this nightmare
i cry out to his streets that i call home
end this nightmare
i cry out to our streets that i called home
end this nightmare
i pray
elena winters
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-cry-for-my-streets/
