Crying All the Same This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By
     I grew up on crumbling streets
Paved in a faded golden brick
Now only a motley orange hue
The stones of my city’s founding
Meant to remind us of simpler times
Now they remind me of a city’s lies
I have watched the city’s leaders
Shaking hands and kissing babies
But all from a television’s vantage
They never even pretended to care
For my neighborhood is past
But I saunter beneath monuments
I stroll in lush and storied gardens
How then can they not marvel too
For it would cost them only time
Why have they forgotten me
The city’s oldest, truest friend
Who can see the high parapets of
The men who claim to govern us
I once looked through my window
Crying at the nightscape of the city
For the beauty and the breeze were one
Cooling and caressing my skin and yes
But now the noise throttles my joy
The sirens and the bullets dampen
My still hopeful expectations
And I find myself crying all the same


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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