The Jungle We Live In

I remember a time when I could walk to the park and look at the clouds in the sky

A time when I could sit on the porch and watch the cars go by

A time when I could lay in my bed and not hear police sirens all night

But I actually can’t remember that time

That actually was before this generation of mine

I’m not proud of it, but im living in it

Actually more like existing in it

What I would call being on this Earth right now is not living

I would call this surviving

 

I walk down the street feeling like somebody’s prey,

I constantly wonder if I’m going to make it until the end of the day

This place is like a jungle and i’m not the fittest

I mean for survival since my hand doesn’t have a pistol in it

The fittest around here don’t wear spots or stripes, they wear blue and red

Make the wrong move and next thing you know there’s a gun to your head

Why do I have to be a predator in order to feel safe?

Not everyone want to be a predator and then wait on the judge to call on their case

 

For some they think that being a predator is the only option

That’s why the amount of them keeps growing and no one could ever stop them

This jungle we call home kills dreams

That’s why our people are always the ones arrested at the crime scene

There’s another way out and everyone here knows it

But the few chances they get they always seem to blow it

What they need is that spark

That spark for new beginnings to start

We could help the ones that think they need to find prey

All we have to do is show that they will always have the chance for a brighter day

 

This poem is about: 
My community

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