Small Book of Lyrical Poems

Come HomeI have been to many faraway placesI have seen many different facesNow, I see a whole lot of goodIn this, the old neighborhoodWhere is this old neighborhood?A place from which society expects no goodWhere everyone is expected to failBut despite it all they thrive and prevailIts such a joy, makes you feel real goodTo live here in the old neighborhoodFor you hear boisterous and jovial laughterMixed with loud down-home banterThe playground is asphalt or concreteAnd the parks have not one decent seatBut children play, and life is still goodDay after day right here in the hoodAs a child of the hoods mean streetGrowing up was tough, no easy featAnd no matter how far you may roamRemember the hood is forever homeThere are still no willows or shady treesThe summer is funky hot, no cool breezeThe guys and gals still dress in them fine clothesGuys with earrings, gals with rings on their toesSorry that life troubles are keeping you downAnd that happy smile is turning to a frownGod bless, dont hesitate, no need to phoneTh e hood will always welcome you; come homeSee page 15