A hole in my head a mile deep.
A way it seems I tend to lose sleep.
I run a pace over my skills
and see how grace sometimes kills.
I see all the people in their madness,
all filled with some ulterior sadness.
Wondering who these people want to be,
wondering if they are blind or can they see.
Bewildered by the test of time.
Their punishment and crime.
The ideals and what they would die for
or are they just the 'lie down for more'?
Is life just a big disgrace
to be part of the tangible human race.
Somewhere else I can promise you isn't as pretty
since you probably have the luxury of living in a city.
You have the knowledge to know how to read
even though your stuck up to your hips in greed.
You all circle the ATM like vultures to the kill
and to ease your pain you suffice it with a pill.
You run me into madness you mongers of drugs
with all your techno-phile cops with their camera's and bugs.
All the money wasted on bullshit that doesn't help
just helps repeat the cycle of the demonic self.
How does keeping people homeless
since the money isn't priceless.
We don't need a war on drugs or on people
since none of this is driven by the steeple.
When people starve on our streets
and people dying of poverty and disease.
What's the difference to someone like you?
Since you never look to things you never knew.
You always find comfort in your TV and couch
and you love to let you back just slouch.
So what you say, who the fuck am I to care
Since I have to worry about losing my hair?!
What's the world to me? What am I to it?
Since it seems to be driven by bullshit.
What am I to the war? Am I a P.O.W. in prison
since when I talk about it no one listens?
Am I someone to be dispelled?
stuck in an inner-city hell.

10/19/2003

Author's Note: I worte this while living up in Pittsburgh.. I took all the bad things about innercity and compunded them in this poem...

Posted on 10/20/2003
Copyright © 2025 Aaron Howard