Foundation-less: From Mind to Pavement

You used to have a familiar face Your dark kinky curls streaked with knowledge The arch of doubt to your brow as you questioned The answers A strong neck Yet willing to turn when facing the wrong direction A petruding nose separating the ocean breeze from pollution Youthful eyes eager to see Scarred wings wanting to grip Wanting to fly But unable to dream So you injected those hard rocks into your veins and Floated away… A friend to me Los Angeles used to be my home Its sidewalks splashed with different colors, preferences and ideas At first glance it looks like paradise But it is simply a deceiving silhouette A laughing crow Less than thirty minutes away from Tourist Buses Fashion Promenades and Ferris Wheels Lies the torn concrete of Skid Row The forgotten society of eight thousand inhabitants Without a nest to bear their children Diseases sprouting faster than spring weeds Addicts willing to take your life in order to escape there’s An army of lost souls exiting only to recruit lost children LESS THAN 30 MINUTES AWAY How can we not see? These Hollywood lights are blinding and permanently impairing Our vision Were so focused on making it to those white castles above That we forget to look at the slums all around us Instead, we distract our minds with money Cars Diamonds And other hard rocks And let those suffering fade into the forgotten mist… Los Angeles: “The City That Never Awakens” America was once spoken with pride But as time goes on This country seems to be plucking its own pedals Replacing true knowledge with robotic intellect Passion with nickels Praising and absorbing computer generated talent Crowning the media king Now, what most of us fail to realize is that The media is without a soul It has no compassion It does not feel It is ran by Capitalist whose souls have decayed And yet every day we act as children Believing its lies Accepting its acid flavored apples for Apple pie… We must know there are far more fruits and meats than What we have been fed So many tragedies go unnoticed Tragedies that will not burn the pits of our stomachs But storm the winds of our soul… Of our humanity We must awaken before America’s pavements and hard rocks sink into this capitalist quick sand and fade away… Now, I can hold the hand of my dissolving friend and I can lend a hand to crowded homeless shelters with depleting supplies But unfortunately My hands are far too weak to level the American gravel My hands are much too soft to grip the Weight of the world We must all look around Destroy these painted mud huts We’ve all grown accustomed to Mold these hard rocks into hard bricks And begin to build.