Evanescent lives die so easily.
In the ghetto they come and go.
Bullets here are as numerous as pot holes
And used up hypodermic needles.
The ones with promise repeatedly
Choose drug-dealing over living.
I watch hand-to-hands
Sitting on my stoop.
And they hide the drugs
When the cops come 'round.
They run when bullets fly
From a moving car.
They aren't all lucky
Though.
And it split
My world asunder
The torture in this world.
To them
it is as small
As their corners.
A contest entry
- It Split my World Asunder by GreenHrtPaleMoon.
1090 points, ended August 26, 6 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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Comments
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A contemporary write rife with emotion. It makes me wonder if you have lived this or are merely writing about it. Well done anyways.
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