DF Seldon
Loneliness grows in the hood as night falls.
She looks through the glass and sees me walk.
Free as that stray, his large grey paws.
My large manly frame too tough to be stalled.
Danger at every corner, the innocents are in.
But every man on the street must be a mad man.
Two died just months ago, shot to death by the perp.
One was my neighbor, he'd asked me for work.
Trim the yard throw him a few bucks for the labor.
I didn't have a dime but I owed him a favor.
I didn't get to repay for it was in few days
He was shot to death in self-defense for his ways.
Another died in a robbery, shot in his seat,
The perp still at large as I walk the same streets.
Cars stalk me as I walk, slow down to see,
If I'm the type to take a ride for a fee.
Not long ago a man still in his church clothes
On a Sunday tried to pick me up as a ho.
I know now my walking path must be,
Where gay prostitutes walk, and ride for a fee.
Cars see me and honk, a strange flattery.
Johns charged with unbridled sexual energy.
It's like a wall that repels and alters my path.
The man honks, slows and yells, "That's some nice ass."
The old white lady still planted in the hood
Sits on her porch, and bids me be good.
She believes in East Wynnton, her home till the end.
A sweet note from her lips rides on the wind.
Now feeling heavy and headed back home,
Up E. Wynnton Lane to Lawyers I roam.
The sweet girl behind the glass has gone,
I imagine she sits in her room all alone.
Violence and drugs, and prostitution we fear
As we try to carve out a life, but why we stay here?
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