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The children of the Ghetto
Always in the news
They living in the ghetto
But didn't get to choose
Now they got nothing to lose
And everything to prove
So many people look down
On the children in the ghetto
But if only they knew
The trouble they go threw
But they living their cozy little life
In a suburban town where the crimes are few
But see the children of the ghetto
Didn't get to choose
The children of the ghetto
have nothing to lose
Born at the bottom
So it's easy to see why they feel defeat
Some didn't get to eat
The only escape they have is sleep
The children of the ghetto
Always in the news
Where they only portrayed negatively
So they got everything to prove
Because one can only wonder how the world could be so cruel
The children of the ghetto have creativity
Because in their minds they turned the ghetto into a castle
The children of the ghetto have to be strong
So they are ready for battle
The children of the ghetto
Didn't get to choose
They know what defeat feels like
But they don't like to lose
The children of the ghetto
Don't want your pity
No...
They just going to take over your city
The ones that are always in the news
That has nothing to lose
And everything to prove
They going to take over your city
You can only hold people in oppression for so long
But no matter how much you hold them down
They'll rise up
So rise up children of the Ghetto
Because you have everything to prove...
Ma Cherie Jul 2016
As the snow flies
on a cold and grey Chicago mornin'
A poor little child is born
In the ghetto
(in the ghetto)

And his mama cries
'cause if there's one thing
that she doesn't need
Is another hungry mouth to feed
In the ghetto
(in the ghetto)

People, don't you understand
the child  needs a helping hand?
Or he'll grow up to be an Angry Young Man someday...

Take a look at you and me
are we too blind to see?
Do we simply turn our heads,
and look the other way?

Well, the World Turns
and hungry little boy with a runny nose
Plays in the street as the cold wind blows
In the ghetto
(in the ghetto)

As his hunger Burns
So he starts the roam the streets at night
And he learns how to steal
and he learns how to fight
In the ghetto

Then one night in desperation
A young man breaks away
he buys a gun, steals a car
he tries to run
but he don't get far
And his mama cries

As a crowd gathers 'round
an Angry Young Man
face down in the street
with a gun in his hand
In the ghetto
(in the ghetto)

As her young man dies
On a cold and gray Chicago mornin'
Another little baby child is born
In the ghetto...
( in the ghetto )

His mama cries
in the ghetto


Elvis Presley....was to me a very beautiful poetic sad soul, wanting to shake the world up....gone too soon doing things he did not want too in the end. XO

Cherie Nolan
There is a version of this online that is sung with his daughter that literally gave me chills... I sang this from memory so I hope it's right!

https://youtu.be/hUIYONgjaoU

It was difficult to write link above in case you want to check it out!
Brent Kincaid Apr 2016
Spring sneaks by the door to the ghetto.
That's okay, they can't afford the seed.
Trees take too much room from the rentals.
No one saw the end of ghetto weeds.

Ghetto weeds once grew up sudden.
They took the food of those in bloom.
Ghetto weeds we're awful sorry,
But we haven't got the room.

Yesterday a man sold his garden
Bragging how he made such a deal.
Bought himself a high-rise apartment.
Who can tell the fruit by the peel?

Ghetto weeds once grew up sudden.
They took the food of those in bloom.
Ghetto weeds we're awful sorry,
But we haven't got the room.

What about the children of the ghetto,
Do they have the playgrounds they need?
Have you seen the children how they're growing?
Don't they shoot up just like a ****?

Ghetto weeds once grew up sudden.
They took the food of those in bloom.
Ghetto weeds we're awful sorry,
But we haven't got the room.
Cedric McClester Apr 2015
By: Cedric McClester

I was born and raised in the ghetto
But the ghetto wasn't raised in me
Guess that's why I be the way I be
Some people say I'm crazy  cool
See Mama didn't raise a fool
Every day I went to school

To overcome my environment
No wasted time was spent
I was born and raised in the ghetto - see
But the ghetto wasn't raised in me
Guess that's why I be the way I be

It never is just up to chance
We're not victims of circumstance
Though some are seeking an excuse
But I just think, hey what's the use
I was born and raised in the ghetto - see
But the ghetto wasn't raised in me




(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.
Mark  Sep 2019
This is ghetto
Mark Sep 2019
As the gangsta dies
On a hot and humid Florida mornin'
A poor grievin' young wife is torn
This is ghetto
And his crew cries
Because if there's one thing that they don't need
It's another corner boy to bleed
This is ghetto

Society, don't you understand
The hood needs a helping hand
Or they'll grow to be all angry young men one day
Take a look at them and me,
Are we too black to see,
Do we simply shut our mouths
And speak in another way

While the hood rolls
And an inspired young boy with a funny jive
Deals on the corner as he collects high fives
This is ghetto

And his crib burns
So he starts to scare the folks with fright
And he teaches how to deal
And he teaches how to bite
This is ghetto

Then one night in conversation
A young rat screams out loud
She buys a toy, steals a heart,
Tries for fun, but it won't even start
Then her man tries

As the crew gathers 'round a stupid young ***
Face down in the pillow with a ***** in her ******
This is ghetto

As the neighbourhood sighs
On a hot and humid Florida mornin'
Another poor grievin' young wife is torn
This is ghetto
Lía  Sep 2014
Ghetto
Lía Sep 2014
They call me Ghetto.
They call me
gunfights and drive-bys,
pregnant teens.
They call me Poverty,
and concrete winter walls
splashed with blood-red
graffiti.
They call me
junior-high druggies
and gang-banging muchachos.
They call me Mexico
like it’s a ***** word.
They call me Ghetto.

But haven’t they seen through
the white-washed walls
of the
“American Dream”?
Don’t they know hurt
and suffering,
imperfections
and neglect,
as well?

So call me Mexico;
call me Poverty;
call me Ghetto.

I am
run-down yards
filled with laughing brown children,
small apartments
bursting with the scent
of tamales,
mingled with joy and the chatter of relatives.
I am home-made tortillas
at Thanksgiving
and wrinkled hands pounding masa
at Christmas.
I am friendly smiles
and shouted jokes
followed by roaring
laughter.
I am the lilting syllables
of a beautiful
culture.
I am comfort.

They call me Ghetto
and so I am.
The ghetto,
shallow,
full of violence,full of hate,
you dip your toe in but don't
stay out late,
you only see the surface sheen
the oily gleam of oily men.

The ghetto is when you feel you fail,.
when you're sailing close to the edge and
it is on the edge.
In societies ledger where you were written down as
an expendable
you are the price payable,
on demand.

In this land of the free, chained to the ghetto
I see
spirited men who with women and children are torn
from today and told they must stay.
Some play at the ghetto,sing of the ghetto but they'll never know
where the ghetto can get to,
as it chokes off the light and breaks up each day,
some stay and they like it while others stay and think life's **** but
the ghetto will have its way.

And it's the way of the dead end where your brother's a dead friend who you'll steal from and choke on the *****,
invoke all the gods if you must,if they hear
there's just a chance you will get out
but the ghetto is in
you and you can't
escape.
JD Sazz  Dec 2019
Kids at the Zoo
JD Sazz Dec 2019
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.
I wrote this for a contest in another website (however I can't seem to get any criticism there, so I'll start posting my poems here to see how it works out)
See it's easy to rap about
The ghetto
When u don't live in ghetto
We got blacks raps
Takin us back
And got whites makin fun
Of our slacks
You see it's apart of plan
To destroy society
Without the use of hands
Instead words laid over instrumentals
Once the voice is planted
It can become influential
Or detrimental
See thirty eight years ago
The ghetto was bout surviving police
Brutality and violence
And uprising of black unison
But it wasn't until ****** crack ******* from our beloved government
Entered the scene it became
A reality nightmare
Far from King 's
dream pushed away from teams
*** we wanted to be the next dope king
Pin enjoyin sin punishing pur women men and children
But we're helping the establishment
With the destruction of our race
We can't even look each other in the face
Yet we cry its about race
Yes socially mentality and economically
But in actuality the hood locality
Is where most of the hatred be
I see my folks walk around
Looking at me
Like I'm the reason behind slavery
And they mugg me
But don't mug the p-o-l-i-c-e
Feel me so duck the ghetto
The pimps the hoes
The dope the jewels the clothes
Its nothing but holes
In a womb far from being patched up
Wake up and let's abrupt
And stop letting stereotypes corrupt
Our mindset
We natural born warriors
our existence is fearful
Enough towards them
So let this marinate to ya temple
And stop being so love struck
By the
**** luxury of the ghetto

— The End —