Things I see – rough draft


​Teenage pregnancy and drug dependency. Single mothers pop pills because of societal ills. Those snotty nosed broken clothed children knocking on your door for food, are the same kids I walk past everyday in the hood. Houses in the burbs build their walls high enough to make sure they never knock on the front door. Parents use kids as sympathy pawns right after they’re born, but all they really want to do is shoot up. Toss their babies in the garbage can waiting for the garbage man to find another lifeless baby crying out “save me”. You won’t hear it though, another life that wont grow.
We pull up to the red light turning a blind eye. Your change could buy him a meal to make him whole, but the only place you’ll find him now is in a hole, buried six feet under amd i wonder. How many times people look at him with disgust and distrust? But he’s got to wear that face because it’s hard to smile when the life he’s living is barely worthwhile.
Dope dealers ride Range Rovers, paying the price by taking another brothers life. Gone too soon yet again, these problems that stem from the promise of material gain. The lucky ones make it out with stitches while the rest lie and die in ditches.

Last week I attended a funeral, you know, the usual. Tears and sobs. I heard the guy got shot, not for dealing pot, for that crack cocaine that you shoot up in your veins. He sold on another man’s turf, filled him with holes, making sure he never walks this earth. We don’t have grass in front of our yards, just hard exposed ground filled with stones. When a body drops, all the blood covers it and you know they say it’s hard to get blood out of stone.


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