Survival of the fittest

September 18, 2010
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Survival of the fittest
A solitary cry in the cold dark night,
The screech of wheels, the flare of light.
The sound of a smash, an alarm screams away,
Criminals by night, men in the day.
Guns fire off, knives cut the air,
Hoods pulled up, no one seems to care.
Fists smashing faces, puddles of blood,
This is what it’s like living in the hood,
Stolen cars glitter in the dazzling night light,
Glamorous crimes, hideous plight.
Half come out better, half come out worse,
This is the omen, the dark nights curse.
Bent cops look away, it’s not their place,
Fear dwells on, violence between race.

This is the omen, the dark nights curse,
Survival of the fittest, survival of the worst.





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