The Streets
We got this look about us. Stone face youth. And no, no trouble here.
As kids we walked these empty roads. Did what we needed to be.
And now I cant stand to look around. Wide eyes are few and far away.
Sweet salvation in the face of uselessness. Am I disposable?
Depending on a broken bone. Limping everywhere we go.
Didnt we fight to keep our spines? Illusion or interpretation.
No more rebel yells. No more fighting in the street.
Nothing feels right in this nowhere town. No home anymore
Copyright © Gina Young | Year Posted 2013
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