Inner city, solid as a
Crumbling rock,
My urban alarm clock.
Gun fire piecing the silence,
Another night of fun turned
Violent ...
No voices or evidence of
A fight, Gun fire wakes me
Many a night,
Ushering in urban White flight,
Engine racing ... car leaving
In a roar as the gas pedal
Is jammed to the floor.
Street life shows no pity,
Just an average night in
William Penn's favorite city.
Something is miss'n,
When young boys see
Nothing to look forward
To but death or prison.
Things have always been bad
But have gotten worse ...
As the Coroner stacks bodies
In his hearse.
Lights flashing,
Sirens screeching ...
PIGS reaching ... for their guns.
Teenager fleeing from what he's
Seeing Another young life
Done in by the gun.
This is my urban alarm clock.
Wakes me in the middle of
Many a night,
Vexing it can be
Upon the mind,
An urban ake up call
that reminds ...
It's Tahujjud Time.
