My City Poem by Allan van der Meulen

Man i'm from that city
where the thugs speak in tongues, where if you don't
do the chasing you'll be on the run.

Its a place where if
you front you'll be gunned down, forgotten about,
lying in the street, just another clown.

Where nobody cares about you.
You gotta take care of
yourself.
Of your friends
of your fam, of your child.
Your children.

A place with
pointless killings. Where some spend their nights
in
abandoned buildings.

A place where all exist.
But
most aren't living.
A place where people hustle,
people struggle, people fight for their survival,
but to avail,

some set sail, to
distant lands tryna find a
better chance.
To find a helping hand so they can each
become a better man.

To a place where dreams can be
achieved without having to steal.
Without having to bleed without having to kill

A place where the scars
from this world can heal.
A place where your dreams
become real