»»» The Jungle »»»
A narrow twisting street dark and grim
Holding many sorrows well-hidden within
A street of bitter violence covered in dirt
Hiding faces of wasted lives shrunken with hurt
Unpainted buildings crumbling along the way
Inhabited by people with not much to say
There's no way of escaping the "Jungle"'s hold
Police cars cruise by often on nightly patrols
Children scamper half-naked with runny nose
They must hunt for food in rags for clothes
Boom boxes blasting the latest rap songs
Brings relief from wasted lives gone wrong
A shout is heard from a gang playing cards
The devil's past time for those hidden in the yards
Someone gives the signal when a stranger passes thru
A man slips his hand on a Uzi as he adjust his view
This is the daily routine for those living in the "Jungle"
A young mother rushes indoors with her new-born bundle
Upper-class folks avoid that out of bounds area
The fear of attacks bring them to near hysteria
Nothing much changes as the years fade away
But those who get the chance move out without delay
There are folks in this world who fail to understand
The concept of being one of those who cannot withstand
The tug of war that draws the victims deeper into despair
Living in the pit of poverty with no-one to care
copyright©2007Irene
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