givinghope
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People, people; listen to this world.
You hear the anger, and you hear the war.
Our family is hurt, and our friends are gone.
Asking me why I write is like asking me why I live
Because I was born in a city of gangs, crime, blood
I can't expect anything better,
If I ever go back to the hood
Here's to being different,
It is dawn and the blistering and bright sun has yet to grace me with its presence….
Which will remind me of all of the things I still have yet to accomplish today.
