Whitman Imitation of An Urban Mind

Mira… Lo que paso con el mundo The streets are wastelands -no longer safe- desolate Look at the sky full of gray nothing, dead from idiotic spews Look at the children, rasied from ghetto ideals, chasing futile dreams Look at my mother, saddened by grief and a broken back from carrying Shards of generations, shattered from hammers of the “just” Look at my religion, faded and jaded once all the old people die Look at my neighbors, locked doors and hiding behind blinds Look at my hands, my heart, my mind, my soul All cut from trying to pick up jagged pieces of an already destroyed vase Mis amores, mis flores, te amo con todo mi Corazon Even flawed and tainted I see the beauty in it all Every molecule, atom, nucleus combined makes good and evil, together I give this knowledge to you Don’t you love how the air heals wounds that seem insurmountable to the eye? Happiness wouldn’t feel as joyful if pain wasn’t present, wouldn’t it? Would you take it all, and embrace it? Note__ I wrote this for my A.P Lit class, I thought it was good enough to share. Take that, English Teacher, I do more than just sleep in class! heheh.