Wednesday, April 29, 2009

my Hood ( Camden)

camden a place i called home so many times aqain , a place where i had no friends and because of the color of skin and my gender of my body i was going be nothinq but a losee hen layinq some eggs for a negro i didnt know .
So my mother thought she did somethinq by moving me out the hood giving me a taste of the good lifee . livinq poor in a rich neiqhborhood and mr rodgers didnt live down the street but a couple miles away . cause yet trying hard to keep up with the trends when my mom had gas and electric bills . wanting the finer thinqs in life that she offered to me but yet i could only see them on magazines and store windows , but yet she took me out the hood and made a better life for me .
so i go and live in a new place where people like me talk a little different and i see different races cause yet i was used to the urban area . city girl forced to live a life she didnt plan on . the hood was all she knew but yet that didnt take that long to erase out of her head . yes yes yes . cause she or i quickly reformed to the proper speaking girl . who didnt care what the world though of ne thing about her . shoes wasnt busted but they wasnt the best . had nice and decent clothes but isnt wasnt like the others girls . to niqquas on the street i was livinq the best of both worlds .
finding myself once agian wanting what i couldnt afford . jordans and hollister shirts that my mom couldnt buy .
so now she sticks me back in the ghetto i onced called home . faced to be different once again but here they look just like me . no dreams or goals but yet they smile at their own failure . not knowing that there is somethinq out there better for them and me . is this god brinq me back to save the city or atleast the people i can .
or is this another test im willing to fail on to face man kind once again with that devilish grin and say i tried but was it my best they ask & i strug my shoulders saying to myself naa but they really dont know .
it isnt the fear of camden city that scared me . its the umwritten books on our lives . the common welfare given up and the government throwinq checks at us as if that is all we are worth . the broken dreams of the sick and dead . the unheard sad song of the common crackhead . oor the cry for help from he.she that works that nine to five to support hers and many others . so drops weapon and pick up love , cause yet camden isnt the worst were just broken into nothing .!

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