Placed in Poverty

What does it take to stay awake 

And not hate 

Every eye that passes by

Makes me wonder if they try 

Or do they categorize 

My kind within wicked lies

As if every time a brother dies

It was gang ties

But it seems to be 

Reality

Because the police always bother me

Hand cuffed

Roughed up 

Thrown to floor

Doesn't even  seem like protection anymore

Where can I go so I won't have to lock my doors

Or good homes I can afford

And yes 

I work hard

Still stressed

But thank God

Cuz I'm blessed

To even make it this far