Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Jae201
Poems1
Words139
Come on let’s cry, Come on let’s mourn, For yet another kid Who in the ghetto died. Come on, What are you doing? Get on your knees. We will cry for that kid Who in the ghetto died. Isn’t it sad? Gosh, he was just a baby. Isn’t it sad? The drugs, The gangs. Isn’t it sad? Their clothes, Their sag. Isn’t it sad? Timmy, come here Press your nose to the glass. Come on let’s see That kid who in the ghetto died. You see Timmy, Their kind Is one followed by suffering. One plagued by sad. Isn’t it sad? It is indeed, Timmy. And you shall learn To pity them. Their struggle, Their existence, Is one that’s unfair. Do you see that one over there? Stealing that horrid car? It’s not ‘cause he wants to. They’re simply deprived. Do you see the poverty? The death? The bad? They even **** each other. Isn’t that sad? Stop what you’re doing. You will sympathize. You will cry for that kid Who in the ghetto died. The ghetto is no place To raise a child, Timmy. Hell is no place To ice-skate, Timmy. Do you see their ***** houses? Do you see their mamas crying? That sure makes for a good movie. The feeling. The rawness. Should we watch one tonight? Should we put on matching pajamas, Get some sodas, Pizza, perhaps? Oh yes, I feel like crying tonight. Come on Let’s watch Yet another movie About a kid who in the ghetto dies. I will cry, And I will mourn. While I laugh and dance, To yet another song About a kid Who in the ghetto dies. Oh yes, I will complain. And I will lament, About something that’s sad, Something I don’t understand. Oh yes. I am different, I really do care, I say as I drink my wine, As I mindlessly tug at the silver necklace around my neck. They, they do have it hard. But good material comes out of it, Can it really be that bad? Sure, sure They do seem to try. But can they try less though? I want to feel sad. I want to pity them. Feel high and right, As I complain about the unfairness That is their lives. As I sing and write, As I watch and dance, As I cry and starve For the pain In the eyes of the kid Who in the ghetto dies.
0
Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 9:03 AM UTC
Jae201
Kids at the Zoo
Come on let’s cry, Come on let’s mourn, For yet another kid Who in the ghetto died. Come on, What are you doing? Get on your knees. We will cry for that kid Who in the ghetto died. Isn’t it sad? Gosh, he was just a baby. Isn’t it sad? The drugs, The gangs. Isn’t it sad? Their clothes, Their sag. Isn’t it sad? Timmy, come here Press your nose to the glass. Come on let’s see That kid who in the ghetto died. You see Timmy, Their kind Is one followed by suffering. One plagued by sad. Isn’t it sad? It is indeed, Timmy. And you shall learn To pity them. Their struggle, Their existence, Is one that’s unfair. Do you see that one over there? Stealing that horrid car? It’s not ‘cause he wants to. They’re simply deprived. Do you see the poverty? The death? The bad? They even **** each other. Isn’t that sad? Stop what you’re doing. You will sympathize. You will cry for that kid Who in the ghetto died. The ghetto is no place To raise a child, Timmy. Hell is no place To ice-skate, Timmy. Do you see their ***** houses? Do you see their mamas crying? That sure makes for a good movie. The feeling. The rawness. Should we watch one tonight? Should we put on matching pajamas, Get some sodas, Pizza, perhaps? Oh yes, I feel like crying tonight. Come on Let’s watch Yet another movie About a kid who in the ghetto dies. I will cry, And I will mourn. While I laugh and dance, To yet another song About a kid Who in the ghetto dies. Oh yes, I will complain. And I will lament, About something that’s sad, Something I don’t understand. Oh yes. I am different, I really do care, I say as I drink my wine, As I mindlessly tug at the silver necklace around my neck. They, they do have it hard. But good material comes out of it, Can it really be that bad? Sure, sure They do seem to try. But can they try less though? I want to feel sad. I want to pity them. Feel high and right, As I complain about the unfairness That is their lives. As I sing and write, As I watch and dance, As I cry and starve For the pain In the eyes of the kid Who in the ghetto dies.
Continue reading...
97