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
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