I Write Poetry
i recall the days of my youth
when all possibilities
were endless and grand
where family rule
was the lay of the land
where skies were always blue
and even on cloudy days
one knew that the clouds
would eventually yield
and the sun would
once again shine
the neighborhood
was sacred ground
always felt safe there
whether day or night
people knew each other's names
neighbors were considered
like family, and family,
well there was nothing better
the only world I knew
was the confines of the neighborhood
those bunch of streets defined
my neighborhood from yours,
from theirs, and when you're a kid
this place with all its pieces
was the only thing you'd ever need
when all possibilities
were endless and grand
where family rule
was the lay of the land
where skies were always blue
and even on cloudy days
one knew that the clouds
would eventually yield
and the sun would
once again shine
the neighborhood
was sacred ground
always felt safe there
whether day or night
people knew each other's names
neighbors were considered
like family, and family,
well there was nothing better
the only world I knew
was the confines of the neighborhood
those bunch of streets defined
my neighborhood from yours,
from theirs, and when you're a kid
this place with all its pieces
was the only thing you'd ever need