The City |
The naked trees wave white plastic bags
Like wounded soldiers waving surrender flags
Sirens scream from the project heights
Homeless were once suburbanites
Multiple stab wound lies on the street
While the starving steal the shoes from his feet
Where the in want out, and the out want in
Where lives end, and business negotiations begin
Where the deals are smooth and a bag costs one fifty
This is my home, this is the city.
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