Regina Fulton

Clark Atlanta University

Trapped in the Hood

Trapped in the Hood although my physical residence zip code says different, my daily life struggles and lines of poverty tell me I’m in the hood.

Each morning the mind is screaming “I’m suffocated and need to be freed.”

How can a mind be freed when in my head I hear the silent tears of my Mom, who cries for better days for her children.

A mom who screams Lord forget about me make it better for my children.

 A Mom that is willing to be homeless to provide shelter for her children.

 A mom that works hard and long only to cry on payday and wonder “when will it change?”

A mom that has to portray strength to her children, only to be weak and crumbling inside.

A mom who gives up her only vehicle and catches the city bus to make sure her child has transportation to make it to college.

In the hood you see this often but not in my zip code. I am trapped in the hood and cannot escape my mind from telling me different.

The hood is no longer defined by where your body lives but where your mind resides.

One day I will wake up and this dream of the hood will be a thing of the past. My degree, persistence, and ambition will provide the escape route like the Underground Railroad.

 No more tears in silent I am free to leave the hood.

Trapped in the Hood, will you be free?