I Am From

I am from the streets of Sin City where a lot of broke gamblers share the same pity.

But somehow keep looking forward to another day.

From the bright lights of the strip to the blazing hot days that put you in such a daze.

Yes, this is a place where you can shine, and “Be who you wanna be.”

I somehow ended up here where there is so much fear.

But sometimes I just don’t care, until I hear that single gunshot in the air.

Then I am reminded that I am not where I once was, but now in “Killa City.”

I live in a place where I can’t call home because it is not where I come from.

The grey sidewalks are signed R.I.P. in the thickest shade of red.

Waiting for the next young body to drop. Suddenly.

I came from a place that naturally made me happy,

Where no dream was considered too big,

Where you could do things on impulse.

Where love is searching for you.

I am confined to the dangerous streets, constantly hearing that same old

Damn ghetto upbeat. The police beating at my back door.

Where trouble is trying to swallow you whole.

Where the pill bottles just pop open for you. I can’t deal.

Where there is a silver bullet with your name on it.

You most definitely gotta stay still.

Where depression just becomes regression. Then

Sucks further into a deeper oppression.

I reside in a place that is not me, here I do not shine my brightest shade of PINK

But somehow I do not stink, or the evil stink.

That is just glued to the black concrete.

I come from a place that is screaming come back. But I can no longer go back.

“Killa City” is not me nor does it define me.

There is no point in running. I just must embrace me,

Before I get chased by my negativity.

It is all that lives with me! It better not be my legacy …

By Edna, age 17