Studio

It reminds you of one’s trap cranking out music. Lyrics stories of our urban community underlined with sex and drugs. Those who flock there are ones who cloak to darkness everlasting party. A place were tortured souls go seeking some form of relief. Only this place provides smoke and mirrors, its not a home. Broken dreams and promises of fame seem to be its enchantment. Its furniture holding secrets and stains of unborn children. This house is different from the rest beats that are created hear. The house captures the hope, opening themselves like books of Fantasia. Pleading fans will buy-in and exploit their journey. A house what does it all mean if not broken down into bars accompanied by lyrics?

This poem is about: 
My community

Comments

Sarah Mitchell

I'm not one for hating on poems, but fuck off you shitty ass site. I am trying to access my poem, not be sent to one that I have not posted.
Let me review my shit

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741