A 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 neighborhood. Where is this old neighborhood?A place from which society expects no goodWhere everyone is expected to failBut despite it all they thrive and prevail. Its such a joy makes you feel real goodTo live here in the old neighborhoodFor you hear boisterous and jovial laughterMixed with loud down-home banter. The 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 hood. As a child of the hoods mean streetGrowing up was tough no easy featAnd no matter how far you may roamRemember the hood is forever home. There 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 toes. Sorry 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 home. See page 15