deepundergroundpoetry.com
Bronx Story
Shadows creep,
Deep in the heart of the Bronx, darkness seeps,
A world of pain and suffering, no escape in sight,
Where dreams go to die, swallowed by the night.
These streets suffocate in chaos and despair,
Lost innocence, young souls stripped bare,
A deadly code rules, blood always spills,
Chained by the devil, driven by his thrills.
At thirteen and fifteen, their lives torn apart,
Caught in the crossfire, hope ripped from the heart,
Foolish soldiers, chasing dreams of gold,
But the world they face is heartless and cold.
Sirens wail, a melody of impending doom,
Gunshots echo, shattering all hope in the room,
Corner boys peddle poison, needles in hand,
Blind to the venom that infects this land.
They handle drugs like a twisted form of art,
Their naivety consuming them, tearing them apart,
Survival is the only game they know,
Carving out their own claim, inch by bloody inch, they go.
Innocence is a myth, replaced by a vacant stare,
Despair lingers, hanging heavy in the air,
A harsh street education, unforgiving and cruel,
Creating kings and killers, life's twisted duel.
They navigate the alleys, relentless and cold,
Armed to the teeth, every word fraught with bold,
Power is the name of the game they play,
Deep scars hidden, revealing weakness and dismay.
Society turns a blind eye, no help in sight,
In this Bronxian hell, dreams vanish overnight,
Hope becomes scarce, a flickering light,
As the night claims its victims, bidding farewell to the fight.
Listen closely, to the cries unheard,
As this vortex of venom goes undisturbed,
The streets weep, drowning in their sorrow,
Unseen endings, secrets too dark to borrow.
This is the Bronx, where angels meet their doom,
Where shattered dreams are buried, buried in gloom,
In a never-ending cycle of vengeance and hate,
A playground soaked in blood, where sanity meets its fate.
So let it be known, this merciless tale,
Where hearts grow cold and courage fails,
The Bronx stands tall, thriving amidst the decay,
In the shadows, existence and death dance and play.
Deep in the heart of the Bronx, darkness seeps,
A world of pain and suffering, no escape in sight,
Where dreams go to die, swallowed by the night.
These streets suffocate in chaos and despair,
Lost innocence, young souls stripped bare,
A deadly code rules, blood always spills,
Chained by the devil, driven by his thrills.
At thirteen and fifteen, their lives torn apart,
Caught in the crossfire, hope ripped from the heart,
Foolish soldiers, chasing dreams of gold,
But the world they face is heartless and cold.
Sirens wail, a melody of impending doom,
Gunshots echo, shattering all hope in the room,
Corner boys peddle poison, needles in hand,
Blind to the venom that infects this land.
They handle drugs like a twisted form of art,
Their naivety consuming them, tearing them apart,
Survival is the only game they know,
Carving out their own claim, inch by bloody inch, they go.
Innocence is a myth, replaced by a vacant stare,
Despair lingers, hanging heavy in the air,
A harsh street education, unforgiving and cruel,
Creating kings and killers, life's twisted duel.
They navigate the alleys, relentless and cold,
Armed to the teeth, every word fraught with bold,
Power is the name of the game they play,
Deep scars hidden, revealing weakness and dismay.
Society turns a blind eye, no help in sight,
In this Bronxian hell, dreams vanish overnight,
Hope becomes scarce, a flickering light,
As the night claims its victims, bidding farewell to the fight.
Listen closely, to the cries unheard,
As this vortex of venom goes undisturbed,
The streets weep, drowning in their sorrow,
Unseen endings, secrets too dark to borrow.
This is the Bronx, where angels meet their doom,
Where shattered dreams are buried, buried in gloom,
In a never-ending cycle of vengeance and hate,
A playground soaked in blood, where sanity meets its fate.
So let it be known, this merciless tale,
Where hearts grow cold and courage fails,
The Bronx stands tall, thriving amidst the decay,
In the shadows, existence and death dance and play.
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