Thought the City streets, the sound of traffic deafens me

Running trying to catch that last seat on the bus.

 All the while listening to the City Kids cus.

Loose, Harsh , Intense words flow from the tip of their tongues so easily.

Derogatory phases being tossed around interchangely.

Words, that apparently represent them, condems them, mold a figure and shapes an image of them.

One that fits the vivid stereotypically images that socitey has bound on them.

Our overwheleming decription serve as schackels , they have been inslave to an image.

An image that flash thought my mind as I see a crack pipe  peeping thought the pocket of one of thier jeans .

An image that I wished I hadnt found to match, these young careless kids.

One that I wish they hadnt accepted.

One that I wish WE hadnt  expected.

 Maybe If we had stop telling them. What they are, what their worth they could have become more.

They could have decided for themselves instead of fitting a description WE decided for them.