The Street Where I Grew Up

Walking back down the street where i grew up,graffiti faded with age covers the entrance walls and again my past to me does call.

A little further houses worn, torn bullet scorned, houses you would think long abandoned.Every car driving slowly down the rd along side me brings back the past I have tried to ignore.

Just like watching the past in the present in front of me, and old familiar scene, on the corner stood a gang of teens, probably packing like we were back than, probably thinking all of these people were their friends, truth is cross them, rub them wrong, you'll here two shots and a death rattle song, won't take much wouldn't take long, for you to disappear for you to be gone.

Continuing on I pass the old court, overgrown, mossy, basket missing,goal leaning, bent towards the ground. The only place where I could go that didn't mean I was up to no good,now lay in ruins, i just sit and i stare for a moment, it was dead out their on that court not a single sound.

I continue on arriving at my destination, a old run down beat up house, long ago boarded up. As I stood and stared at the hell that was my home, Screams, gun shots, trouble, stories, living nightmares play in my mind, i had expected tears but what I felt was anger,resentment.Looking away I knew that as hard as it was growing up there, It molded me into who I was always meant to be!
I'm caring and Generous because I know what it's like to struggle.