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Nate Dogg
Senior Member

since 1999-11-15

Posts 1658
Georgia, Fulton

0 posted 1999-12-12 04:46 PM

This poem was inspired by Killah Priest's Mystic City.

Everytime I take a journey to my city,
my hearts fills up with massive pity.
I've often wondered what our world is coming to,
when I see every street and corner filled up drug addicts and prostitutes.
On every corner, there's a drug dealer,
capitalizing the weak minds of the average Peter,
like Grim the Reaper.
Homeless people walk the streets,
looking and hoping for something to eat.
Evertime I stop and talk to them,
they give me sad expressions
and confess,
to me,
that they have no money.
Whenever I have some, I give them some
because like them, I could have been a bum.
It hurts to see,
once-beautiful black ladies,
selling their precious bodies.
and they don't care,
if it's Mike, Charles, or Blair.
The crack has consumed their bodies and dissolved them like cotton candy.
Now their vulnerable and opened to anybody.
I see a lot of black women in my city stuck on welfare too.
They're trapped in it and stuck like glue.
if they apply themselves more accordingly,
they won't have to worry,
about being trapped in the spider of our society.
Life is what you make it.
And if you don't take any opportunities, chances, or risks,
you'll be telling yourself, "what if?"
Because of this,
my city is filled with heavy bliss.
Sadly, it seems that my city,
will always be,
a fallen city.

Nathan

Denise

Moderator

Member Seraphic

since 1999-08-22

Posts 22648

1 posted 1999-12-12 04:53 PM

My city, too, Nate. It is a pity. You have expressed this sad fact of life well.

Denise

Marge Tindal

Member Empyrean

since 1999-11-06

Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores

2 posted 1999-12-12 05:20 PM

Nate -

You've expressed well what is a problem
more universally spread than we would like.

You show great maturity in recogizing
the problem.
Seeking solutions is harder to do.

Daytona Beach is not much different from many other cities that invite 'tourists' to come and play among the riches dangled in front of them. When they can't find work and they can't find homes they become the people of the streets.

And the faces are not all black.
Many of other races also linger as lifeless statues ... waiting for the 'race' to begin.

It will change ... but then in attempting to sweep with sweeping changes ... the ones in charge will be accused of being heartless.

Drug addicts are the blight of many cities.
I have no sympathy for the users or the pushers. The answer to poverty isn't a rubber-stamp that gets one on the Welfare roles.

I don't have answers ... but, like you
I sure have questions.

Thanks for writing on a volatile subject.

~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
noles1@totcon.com

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