As I prowl through the concrete jungle
of my prison dream.
I watch the local thugs in a rumble
as they fight over the cocaine stream.
The face on the begger
the women, with two kids.
The man with a kegger
the red of his lids.
That's the call of the ghetto
the place I call home.
I might live in a meadow
but the city is where I belong.
Author notes
I had to write a rhyme scheme for my creative writing class which is great because now I am not in writers block.
Any advice would be lovely?
Comments
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awesome.
Imagery was fantastic
I like the first stanza best!
great job here.
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Great imagery. Reminds me of many books I read. Strangely, I see a vampiric outlook, as well. Observation is so intriguing. It amazes me how two people can see the situation differently.
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Thank you so much
I was inspired by new york city, my home town. I miss it so much...
But that's intersting that you see this vampiric inspiration, not what I was going for...but it is always lovely to see where a piece can take someone. I think that's what good poetry is all about.
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