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Oct 2020
I busted open the door,
breathed in the **** smell
Floored by the busted bottles,
used to beat females
Beneath me, was a body,
her bust exposed as she lied on the floor
The liquor must of licked her, it missed her in her misery
How’d she get mixed with pimps, and unsavory misters?
Money.
Funny,
Dead presidents solve most mysteries
I see north of me, broken pictures and light fixtures
They say demons do their deeds in the darkness,
These ****** damages defile as they fill in, this apartment
The AC, broke, like empty pockets,
The place equivalent to an icebox
The ice on my wrist
at home in one way
But cool things will get you shot,
You can’t strut on these runways
I take some steps, I hear the wood scream
Similar to when he laid her down in the sheets
I find *** and a *** of crack cookin on the stovetop
The trash has McDonald’s wrappers, his diet a disaster
Bras of five different women on the floor
Probably people purchased at clubs, to do his ***** chores
I can see his finances are a mess, but his spirit is what’s poor
Pores are sweatin, as I hear the walls of my past confessing
THIS IS HOME
This is where I was raised, actually no, where I was brought down
Baby mamas in rotation like my favorite mixtapes
My mind like what a place, ain’t no way I’m a stay
He had his life all backwards, and I could never set him straight?
I walked into Man’s Hood, I’m just glad I escaped
But the women still abused, and the drugs he uses
God, I’m 20 years old, this a lot on my plate
I feel called to fix it, maybe that’s why I’m back
I came for my bags, but the baggage attacks
I hear a cry, a child breaks out in a whimper
A skinny lil boy, probably missed too many dinners
A son of another woman but my brother the same
How can I make change if I run away
THIS IS HOME
I wipe his tears, tell him, it’ll be okay
I stayed for that night.
The future an unknown
Written by
Caleb Smith  20/M/Houston, TX
(20/M/Houston, TX)   
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