Police run with regularity through the street and alley ways.
Sirens bellow through the winds and wrap around generationally cursed building
Engulfed in a foggy haze.
The only hope for growth I see in the weeds that sprout between the cracks in the pavement.
Or the mold that grows through the bullet holes of the house,
Abandoned because of 12 months no rent.
I see promise in the streets where men
Flee from police on bloodstained feet.
Where love can meet hate and sweet
Smelling sweat can stain the air in their battle for power.
I see hope.