Kurt Kacich

Projects Of Broken Dreams - Poem by Kurt Kacich

As I look up, I see the high rise of the poor,
I see the boarded windows, crime, and destruction sealed together in galore,
If I could I wish I could reach my hand to the sky and bless this community of the poor,
My heart throbs as I look up and see chaos and nothing more,

I remember the sight of the broken windows of shattered dreams,
For outside of the open mind is a lot than what it seems,
I see beyond the corners of cop cameras and those blinking blue beams,
I see lost souls huddled together inside the high rise of the broken American dream,

For no one can see their destiny and we’ll all die one day,
The truth behind the tragic project living continues to spread everyday,

Millions die young in this prison they call their home,
The young wander the playground, to dance with dance where they roam,
Decorated with R.I.P. tags and poor families where only love is shown,
In the projects they live in, their broken home.

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Poem Submitted: Friday, August 13, 2010

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