The Cries Of The 209 Poem by Tunaa Fish

I hear the cries of Stockton,
of the people in pain.

I hear the cries of Stockton,
as the citizens of the city shouts with tears.

I hear my mother yell,
about the dangers that lurks within the city streets.

I hear the strain in people’s voices,
pleading for mercy as they get shot down to the ground.

I hear the cries of the children,
as they fear of getting hit from the bullets that flies through the city’s sky.

I hear on the cries in the grave,
of the fallen victims that was murdered within the city.

I hear the complaints on the news,
of Stockton having to be the second city to ever experience bankruptcy.

I hear the cries of the citizens,
who lost their homes.

I hear, oh I hear,

I cannot stop these voices that plays non-stop after days and nights.
Having the urge to move out of the first most miserable city in the U.S.A,

yet I cannot bare to leave behind the memories I hold within,
my hometown city of the 209.