Oh, it's wonderful living here.
You'll love the place;
although it's rather crowded,
no closet space.
I know I look frowzy,
but I was up late.
the gunshots and low-riders
all really grate.
I can't quite remember
when I've slept through the night.
The gangs hate each other,
and there's always a fight.
Thank God I'm so poor,
as they never get much
when they burgle my house,
no jewelry and such.
I leave with no qualms.
I have nothing to fear;
they won't find a thing.
I was cleaned out last year.
What did you think?
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
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I know you will do great in this contest, my friend. You have always been so talented and have such a way with words. Go get em tiger!


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Too late ...
it's over and I didn't even place.
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You are so talented Jim.


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Just a bit of fluff ...
thanks for stopping by.
I almost got taken in by a scam this week. A friend sent me a link for a site called Publish America. I sent them a manuscript and then discovered that they are rookers. They say they publish you for free, but it turns out that if they publish you, you have to buy the books for 15.95 a piece. I could really afford that on unemployment (which ends in 3 weeks anyway).
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Thanks for the helping hand here.
I love the sound of low riders (skip the gun shots tho)
Would be a bit tough to pull this one off living in a quiet country town (opposite the Cop Shop
)
I appreciate the rhymer you have presented here and I wish you well come judgeing time.
Linda

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I could just imagine the look on a prospective buyers face 
Thanks for your entry in our contest and best of luck
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Sad, but good
Good rhyme and flow. I'm hoping this is an exageration, and not reality. Well done!

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The contest is ...
for poems stating what to say to people coming to rent your house with no warning.
The low-riders part is true though, and sometimes I do hear gunshots, but I heard those up on Brattleboro too. The neighbors play loud music in the summertime and there's no closet space, but all in all, it's better here than it could be.
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Well done, poet. It paints a picture of houses I've seen in Trenton, Baltimore, part of Brooklyn, and New Orleans. I was partly raised in a house like that. Neighborhoods where some homes are on their last legs. Residents live to pay rent. Still it's home.
Write on, brother.
Dez

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A great poem about such a simple subject. It's sad and funny at the same time. Sad, that you cannot live in peace anymore, because of the sounds of shooting and traffic, which prevent you from sleeping well ... and people stealing from your house. When I had written this poem it would be fun, but knowing where you live.... Sad. Well done though.
Anna.


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Such fluent rhyme - the flow is to die for. An amazing write [not that I didn't expect it
]
- Never ♥

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Thanks. ;)
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AHHHAHAHAHAHA BRILLIANT. I love it. My brother likes to pretend he grew up in the ghetto but I know better. Now he LIVES in one. lol The irony. We, my mom/dad/brothers and sisters, moved into this house that had bullet holes in the windows from the outside coming in. Lovely, no? Great depiction and hilarious ending. What a punch.
Yink


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