Chalk Lines

Suddenly awoken by the sound of shots,

Time stops...

Flickering luminecent red lights turn and pop,

Screeching eels peels through

Sadened nightgown crowded neighborhood streets,

Sobbing mother would have sold her soul

To have raised her son in any other place,

A better place,

A cleaner place,

A place not laced in crack cased dreams,

A place not awakened by undernourished infant screams,

Other mothers weep with merose encrusted hearts,

Elated that with their own sons they didn't have to part,

Young teen dreams and aspirations,

Mutaded into ghetto haunting apparitions,

Looking through tennis shoe lined

Electric lines at moonshine,

Brightening up the sorrow soaked chalk lines.


--Jordan Ramay