Our city is falling to bits.

Potholes scattered.

Building mattered,

but now reside to dust.

Look down Bailey Avenue and what do you see?

N-O-T-H-I-N-G

First comes life,

Then comes leave,

And all we can do is sit and breathe.

Breathe in the life that still exists;

Breathe out the natives who make their exits.

 

Our city is taking hits.

Cultures combined.

Arts divined,

and its all on display.

The money’s leaving

And people are too.

There seems to be nothing here,

though nothing here is new.

 

Their city is filled with glitz.

Everything bright.

Everything white,

and its all crystal clear.

Natives here leave to the land of pearly opportunities.

To the land of privilege and no darkness is where they soar.

They soar so high that they float on their white clouds

Above their white houses

With the white picket fences.

 

Our city is drowning in pits.

But we’re still here,

we have nothing to fear,

and together we are strong.

We’re the survivors,

and the ones who take a stand.

We stand in our potholes and stand for a future.

A future where our city will flourish with life again,

They may have ritz,

but we have wits

And that’s what we need to succeed.