The Streets... Poem by Andrew LeClair

The streets can be cruel.
Flooded with guns, sex and drugs.
While you read this,
an innocent kid lies somewhere in a puddle of blood.
Broken and lifeless,
murdered, by ignorant thugs.

The streets show no pity.
Drownding in hate.
While you read this,
a teenage girl was just raped.
Crying and helpless,
she tries to escape.
They knock her to the ground...
and put the gun to her face

The Streets are watchin.
The block is hot,
cuz while you read this,
cocaine is bein cooked into rocks.
The dealer stands on the corner,
soon to be caught.
25 with an L.
In jail he now rots.

The streets...
You hear the stories on the news,
while content in your home.
Safe and unamused,
by the violent crimes.
But how would you feel...
if a gun was pointed at you?