The Old Ghetto Child

There she is,

Closthes all faded and torn,

Badly kept, ragged and worn.



There she is hair all kinky and wild,

Thats the old ghetto child!

Having her as an aquaintance will be a waste,

All she's doing is defiling the place.



Simultaneously they all dialed,

Just to talk about the old ghetto child.



Time flew by and she began to sparkle and glo.

She was'nt the same girl people reminisce a few years ago.

One day people gathered,

To relish the sight of a mansion-

Sitting on a hill looking ever so lavish and mild.

A woman asked who lives there?

Thats the old ghetto child.


This poem is about: 
My community
Guide that inspired this poem: 


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