Baltimore
Baltimore
Baltimore City. Baltimore County. Stokos. Sunny's. Hip Hop Fish and Chicken. This is my city. I missed Baltimore. It's funny cuz when I was here I felt trapped. I felt like this was it for me. I couldn't leave. But when moving day came it was bitter sweet. The joy of a new beginning. But the pain of leaving my home. Baltimore. I missed your smell. Your aggression. Belair and Liberty Road. This is my city. I was raised here. I was raised on purple Fridays and Cal ripkins Homeruns. Those Sunday mornings going to church and seeing people walk around lake Montibello. City Polly games. Jamal Lewis breaking the single game rushing record. Those Thurdgood and Northest fight on Moravia and Sinclair. Down the hill. Up the hill. East side all day and West side certified. I missed you Baltimore. I missed blunt rides on 695 to go see that over west chick. I missed those days waiting on the bus stop with my headphones on. I missed those boring Baltimore weekends. White marsh. East point. Securty. Towson. And mondomun mall. I missed those Morgan Vs Coppin games. Those stories we use to tell about those long nights. Baltimore is my city. My home. That's why I came back.
👁 4💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.