Looking out my window thinking about when is it going to end,

Wondering who's going to die first, me or my friends.

I see hustlers on the block,

Posted on the wall selling rocks.

I look at the spray-painted walls,

Then I see the phrase, 'United We Stand, Divided We Fall.'

I hear people swearing on dead folks' names.

I wonder if the person was alive, would they think this is all a shame.

Will I be a hustler on the block, or make it past 18.

Will someday people swear on my name,

Will I make an effect on this 'hood, or will it just all stay the same

I have nothing else to say,

Except this harsh environment is where I live every single day.

-- JONATHAN BARLOW