El Centro Poem by Twisted Moon

Every heart has it's compartments,
Just like every ghetto has its apartments,
That God laughs at and spits at,
For foolish 'broken-hearted' teens to slit there wrists at.

I look down at my shoe untied,
I think of how God walks above our cries,
The winos, the druggies and hobos,
I wonder if they ever tried.

A God-forsaken laundromat,
A could place to score some blow at,
Across the street from where I used to live,
Is this all you have to give? !

Her neck as sliced from ear to ear,
Happened in the alleyway near here,
The 7-11 around the corner burned down,
Only the mother was found.

The people here really need you,
Some of them eat, sleep and bleed you,
Are you some tyrant of greed too?
Please come and do what you need too.

I just want it all to go away,
This life I wake up to every day,
These ignorant, blissful and barefoot children play,
Completely oblivious to our civilization's decay,
Why did you put me here anyway! ?