We are forfeits living in blurry dreams.
Morals and ethics prelude our anxiety,
We conform to society's expectations,
Paved hills alienate our ideology;
Hipsters,
Hood rats,
Recall our poverty.
Flooded pockets bled over our streets,
Capsized evil deeds over good;
Now broken glass,
Gun shots,
Hallucinations,
Populate our eardrums.
Pride,
Perched dreams;
Fall before beaded eyes.
Our lives blend in street credits,
And empty jars.
By: Ts Mashile
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