Street Chivalry
Your pistol glimmers in the moonlight.
This is how we fight.
Cocked, locked, and loaded, your ready to die.
For my five dollars and a quick little high.
A genuine cop killer you hold.
To you I cannot fold.
Through your eyes I see the pain.
Much like mine, for what you do I cannot blame.
For me this is routine.
Is this the real American dream?
Some what like brothers are you and I.
For it is on these streets we live and die.
No one dreams of living like this.
Anything else, we know would be bliss.
Sadly, this is how we live.
I know why you take for you cannot give.
Despite this common bond we share.
It is from these hands, my money you must tear.
And it is here we are no longer brothers.
On these streets we kill one another.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
