Ghetto Stories

Trapped within a mortal combat My life is the prize This game has swallowed my happiness and makes life a fight Knowing none ever win Death is all that's won Another ghetto poem Another ghetto story Decisions and choices are within the battlefield Gunshots describe my life My stripes are my scars My name have become numbers Drowning my hope with dope Washing the truth with lies Misleading by misdirecting Causing me to miss my blessings The truth is worth confessing I'm tired of the oppression So tired of stressing Faith is all that's left But there is little to believe Knowing no better Faith is air The preacher lines his pockets Many go hungry The pastor says have hope But he doubts himself This story is told by a million fold Each day these stories are never old Gathering thoughts Others laugh While watching my back Hoping to see another calender flip Pouring out liquor for the ones gone My tears makes flowers grow But it doesn't ease my soul