many think of corn fields and the amish,
I think of hurt and memories I desperatly want to forget.
The potholed streets,
the vacant houses,
the hypodermic needles on the playgrounds,
then theres my house.
in my hood,
where I would have to wake up three hours before school,
just to see if my street was closed due to a homicide,
school didn't care why I was late,
they just knew that I was late.
my best friend died one morning,
we had a conversation the night before,
"I want to get out of here" I said,
"here is all I know"
that was the last thing he said to me,
that was 2013.
six years later
I now wake up 30 minutes before I have to be at work.
I have not seen a pothole, vacant house or drug needle in months,
I am 900 miles away from the City that stole everything from me,
my best friend,
even my dog.
I was not going to let myself go down the same road.
My skin is brown now,
no longer pale.
I have no fear now,
the gunshots I hear now are man vs animal, not man vs man,
yes, I am lonely,
but I am alive.
I did what I had to,
to make sure I survive.