Inner City

Broken windows give no reflection graffiti for those who can read concrete streets are polluted rivers passing shoes leave bodies in need disillusion is a crumbled sidewalk stretching to an intersection of who cares empty eyes follow shadows that wander stolen clothes from the morgue to wear hope is a night's survival passing when sounds of gunfire are heard silence comes from gang handshakes pigeons and crows the only bird A bell that rings in the distance the church the preacher will rob players and pimps with tin cups approach the stampeding mob a moat of suburbs surround gates to the castle are locked guards at ramparts bleed blue guns are always cocked a cry only heard by those crying in a dirty world of make believe tomorrow finds another broken window a rock by a child that can't leave 5/6/17