Pushed to the edge by reality, yes these verses will stifle
A revolving door always present; New York City...Vicious Cycle
This is a poem about the hardships, and monotony of this age
The world unchanging in its essence...many problems to assuage
Why is our purlieu in such predicaments, the morass so intense?
It seems the fire has been extinguished; in other words we've acquiesced
Hallways, Alleys, Subway Stations, where the Weak and Troubled roam
Considered dross by our society/that's why the streets became their home
Our youth in dire straits, how can they be redeemed?
High School Dropouts, Teenage Suicide...and, for Crack my brothers fiend
Homeless people are anathema; we seldom love the poor
New York City/Vicious Cycle...where daily living is abhorred
A Nimbus Cloud, Can't See The Acme...Where Then Can Love Be Found?
The Cacophony breaks the silence; the voice of weeping does resound
Welfare parents in a quandary, just barely scraping by
Elderly people doing no better...though receiving S.S.I.
New York City, Vicious Cycle/spreading like a deadly cancer
Minority children disenfranchised/drug dealing is their answer
Boys and Girls, young and pretty....Jail bait, nowhere to run
A perfect target for a pedophile; their tender lives have just begun
Dark specters in every borough; People Lost and Living Trifle
8 million stories/Naked Truth...New York City...Vicious Cycle