Remembering The Hood Poem by Bernard Snyder

I was constantly surrounded by
chaos and mayhem,
crackheads would ring my doorbell
two and three o'clock in the am,
street-walkers would pass through
on their nightly stroll,
I remember drug-dealers trying to convince teens
that 'hustlin' was more prominent than long term goals,
and I definitely can't forget the girl on the corner
that called me rude and said I acted funny,
because I wouldn't buy the 'cookies' she was selling
knowing it was just a cop-out for drug money,
as I look back years later
I realize in some way, we were all 'strugglin'
some of us were just more determined
to make a better life that meant something,
even though I've gone
I wouldn't trade my past life for nothing
and I would still llend a helping hand
to those same folks because
deep down, I'll always love em!