Untold Ghetto Stories Poem by Jesse Pickens

Poverty, depression, and rejection are everyday ordeals,
no birds chirping, police sirens wake us up to breakfast meals,
by meals I mean bread, spoiled milk, and government cheese,
as you walk outside the gun powder smell is so strong it can bring you to your knees,
I've seen a man with his head blown off at a gas station,
friends dying over the gun bring often devastation,
some people read this from afar it really fathoms me,
but understand for most this is reality,
I was robbed at gun point at the age of twelve,
point blank range as I gazed just me and the gun shells,
government funding at an all time,
nobody hiring so I guess I'll just drink beers and get high,
police harass and put up no loitering signs everywhere,
I have no family, my friends are all I have so why cant we stand right here,
daddy's not home, and he is never coming back,
so I guess I'll join a gang, at least they will have my back,
mom is in the club almost every night,
then when she comes home drunk her and her boyfriend have their usual fight,
from the outside everyone looks at us like we are dirt poor,
all we need is people to believe in us a little more,
just remember while you are looking down on us it could have been you,
and we are actual people, the ghetto is not a Zoo..