Urine stenched streets
and foul smelling drains,
illuminated by the fluorescent glow,
broken down shops with metal shutters,
a messed up vision of life in the gutter,
foreboding buildings with shattered windows,
a warm muggy feel in the air hangs heavy,
old unserviced air conditioning units
clank and grind and add to the hum,
of over overhead cables and the noise of distant traffic,
it’s not a life that you would magic,
neon signs flicker advertising wares,
in a ghetto paradise where very few care
and life is so cheap so you better beware,
love is in short supply around here,
how can this be happening?
how can this exist?
in a world where some people have so much
yet these people living here have nothing,
not even hopes and dreams
at least that would be something
but a harsh life of scrimping for all you can get,
means surviving each day is the best
you can hope for in this dimly lit corner of hell,
with all it’s fouls smells and run down shops
and broken buildings, with it’s broken families inside,
should anyone be grateful to be alive?
in a place like this, where your forced to exist
in a beaten up run down gutter filled ghetto.
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