Poverty stricken youth jus trying to make a buck
mom working two jobs and pops don't give a f**k
daddy never comes around
at night the only sound
that can be heard are the sounds of the ghetto
drug dealing, gang banging the sirens of the po po
he finds himself posted on the corner slangin dope
to him it seems like the only hope
to finally get off the block or stay at a dead end job with no raise
so on the corner he stays
high school dropout with no time for class
time at a desk could be spent in the spot making cash
scarface dreams are clouding up his mind
cocaine sales taking up his time
greed has polluted his brain, spirit, and soul
hatred and a heart as black as coal
have takin over him what is he to do
no one gives him an answer looking for a clue
looking to the sky for some kind of sign
all he can see is a life full of crime
until the day the cops get him or his enemies catch him in the wrong hood
wearin the wrong colors, throwin up the wrong signs if he could
change things he'd do anything for a second chance
times up he has a dance
with the devil that's going to last an eternity
another soul lost, but others see it as another victim of poverty.
From Dreams To Drugs Poem: A Journey Through Poverty
Victim Of Poverty
©
Tommy B
more by Tommy B
Published by Family Friend Poems January 2009 with permission of the Author.
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