PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Measly Hours


One. Two. Not minutes. I refuse to drive through. Maybe I’m one of a few. I’ll start with time. I could not go. But I won’t drive by that city. Even if its two hours. Just a quick hello. Only two hours. Would you prefer no hours. That I sit like a wallflower. That I never empower. Don’t try to stop a system before it devours. That I stay at home and cower. Do you want me to not give two hours? Because people say Detroit is a threat. Because people look at the city with regret. Because I can’t stop the neglect. Because I’ll tell stories that make whites fret. But I know what I’m doing is correct. Hours add up. And add on. They wind me up. To sing this song. And pave the way. To fix the wrong. So I’ll give two hours. No its not my home. But I’ll give two hours. To add on.
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

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 (2)

McCovery
Nice poem man. *Like*
lpartam
Rediscover Detroit

Log in to leave a comment.