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Poem

This spot, this spot, so firm and alive
It grows gracious hands, living to give
To enhance all lives... much like their own
They help the masses, one by one.

This spot can be called, freedom spot
Cause ignorance falls from our back
Those wounded and scarred are soothe
The helpful free our tears.

The spot is Uptown, downtown, all around
Our structured days from morn
To close of eve; chases fear
We hear words of good cheer.

The spot has filled so many void
No one hunger or thirst, they take pride
Being a part of ASC (Aids Service Center)
One and all stays sanctuary sharp.

This spot of food, clothing, creativity and work
Knows pandemic Aids have been no joke
Now, human rights seeks cure, and better health
Ask Sharen Duke; harm reduction equals soulful wealth.

The spot is where love surely blooms
Everyone within its grace, looms
Higher, than those who fall, and stay down
The spot of midtown is seen as hometown;

Yes, the spot in Manhattan is where its at
The strong survives, and learn new art
Art as colorful as souls with fresh start
Like blessed hands, minds, and heart.

Find your way to see the spot
Know what you have, or have not
For in our world of blues, chaos and attacks
Behold, life becomes art, at the spot.

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