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For twenty-two years these street's been bad
nothing left for me but make me mad
I have lived here for years and more
knowing what would happen, knowing what's in store
I'm tired of all the poverty that comes and goes
nowhere to be found the ghetto rose
instead just weeds and bushes of every kind
I feel here, I only have the clearest mind
I am not writing this poem to change the city ways
but for the ghetto families and their graves
I always heard that where you were born is where you shall die
but I don't want to come here to this ghetto and see why
I am going to end this poem sad yet true
can you take me away from this ghetto with you?
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