Cali
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The table stays
the wood is grey
a light sull yellowed
tingy yellow brown
when on the bench
the hobo sleeps
the homo weeps
the political correctness steeps
and for weeks and weeks
Peers and youth clatter and clank
Minds nearly filled with blank
Always looking so fine and swank
A job and work a threat or a prank
Parents diving into their savings bank
I feel the warm lights on my skin
I hear the voices of impatient souls
I see the opposing character to my side
And I can just taste this sweet tasting goal
Every since I was a little girl
