You might call them the wrong crowd.
But I know they are true.
They hear what you say.
But they wont listen to you.
With that negative mouth always calling them out.
They dont turn around when they hear you shout.
Walking down the street with their baggy jeans.
Feeling the snow, but having no dreams.
Walking along.
Doing no wrong.
But blamed anyway.
With their chained wallets and broken seams.
Stained sweatshirts and looming gleam.
They just walk away.
Come to school everyday.
With not a word to say.
To anyone thats not true.
Only talks to people that'll listen to you.
They're quite the crowd you see.
They're just like family.
Knowing them since grade school.
Not thinking they were cool.
But now older I see.
Im lucky they're with me.
Always have my back.
Not ever letting that policy slack.
Their black hair and tall stance.
Stone eyes that'll break you with half a glance.
When they have to fight you dont have a chance.
But they're not the way people think they are.
They're good kids inside you see.
They have broken families.
But inside they're just like you and me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a very deep poem....top marks! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! But inside they're just like you and me. a honest write