The Ghetto

I was born in the ghetto to a poor black man
          Momma cleaned houses and daddy was a field hand 
       It was tough growing up with seven children in the home
      We did what we could to get by we were always left alone
         The older siblings had to get jobs at a very early age
     We were no more than ten or twelve it was work at that stage
    Some days dad would make soup, no meat or veggies to put in
        He would only use corn meal we really took it on the chin
            Sometimes life seems unfair especially in the ghetto
     Whenever you think you're coming out it's back to ground zero.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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Keely Avatar
September 15, 2020 at 6:21 PM
That last line sums up ghetto life so well William. So darn hard to climb out from poverty.
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