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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required A morning bustles with activity. Folks go about their day, including a Siamese cat creeping past the sidewalk. But appearances are deceiving. This place isn't Disney World. Every day is a struggle for survival. A disheveled, drug-addicted homeless man across the street sits in the bower, on his cot. He's lost in a delirium; under the influence of heroin. It's a sad sight. Somebody just shot and killed "Shorty"; he's lying in a pool of his blood and a blood-soaked woman is wailing over his corpse. Could it be his girl, or his mom? Life sure is tough in these mean streets! Sounds of gunshots at midnight and police sirens blaring portend a sense of ominousness. Oh no! Not again...does it ever stop!? Raised voices come from inside a shoddy row home defaced with graffiti. An unhappily married couple are intensely yelling yet again over each other for God knows what reason. In another room, their only son, Rodney, lies supine on his bed staring at the ceiling, thinking unfathomable thoughts. He doesn't bother to mediate. He's numb to the frequent squabbles. Yet another fight goes down out in the open, for all to see! Hazel-eyed Keisha, a feisty young pregnant woman with a café-au-lait complexion and a leonine mane of curly jet-black hair. She's raving mad, publicly chewing out her lazy boyfriend, Khalil, who's disinterested in finding a steady job or fully committing to her. Who could blame her? Two high school-age friends, Jamal and Charles, sit on the stoop blasting "Juicy" by The Notorious B.I.G. on a stereo. They spend time talking about girls and basketball. They share laughs as they puff and pass marijuana cigarettes to each other. A glass door behind them, cracked. A boarded-up window to the side, shattered by rough-housing kids. Tweens roam the streets like stray dogs at sundown, way past their curfew Where are their parents? Well, a lot of them don't have fathers, and their busy, working moms can only monitor their whereabouts for so long. One of these kids will go home to a house with no electricity, shut off because his parents were far behind on the electricity bill. But then, that's life...in the ghetto. Let The Pens Flow Poetry Contest Sponsored by Jenish Sonatas Date: 02/05/2020 Submitted for... Strand Choice 7,Any Form,Any Theme Poetry Contest (Winner: 3rd Place) Sponsored by: Brian Strand Date: 01/26/2020 Date written: 08/17/2019
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