The hood, My hood

The hood, there’s always a lot of noise but yet it’s at peace

The hood, it’s not how they see it 

All the anger and hurt it let’s me release 

The hood I live in, I strive to be it 

The hood makes the youngins what they are today, trying to make it day by day 

Cries and grunts I hear out the hood are not always bad. Sometimes for good 

The hood played a small part in breaking me but a major part in building me 

I embrace it, live it, and love it 

This poem is about: 
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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