Memories of Home

My Hometown
The place where I lived,
The limits seemed endless,
My brother a dealer,
In and out of rehab,
My sister a ballerina,
With only dreams,
When I think back,
This town,
It was pretty f***ed up,
Filled to the brim,
With racism, drugs, and hate,
You couldn’t go a day,
Without hearing about somebody,
Robbed and shot,
But, when you saw through its façade,
It had an almost chatoyant charm,
There was a creek down the street,
That I could go and catch fish,
The ceaseless blackberry bushes,
In the woods where I played,
Even to me it seems,
A pretty fallacious thing,
But this was my place to be,