this is my street
this is my block, my hood
that's my bubble gum
house that sits on this
avenue of busyness and chaos
sleeping on the sidewalk of sirens and traffic
in the middle of the ghetto
surrounded by portraits
painted by faceless street artists
canvases of buiding sides, fences, signs
that house wreaks of memories
so thick i can smell them in my nostrils even now, miles away
the lovely fragrance causes my eyes to tear
those walls of lies and laughter and family gatherings
the christmases, easters, birthdays, no reasons
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