Because of the slums

Because of the slums, I bled,
saw my skin peeled,
my mind imprisoned.
Because of the slums, I felt,
as though a small piece,
of paper, fragile and,
drained by anger.
Because of the slums, I cried,
saw no way home,
And could not find peace.
Because of the slums, I longed,
for emancipation from the hand,
that left me dirtier;
and more…dependent
Because of the slums, I bathed,
soaked my skin,
in oil, but deep within.
I wreaked of sin.
Because of the slums, I died,
with much I had endured.
That my soul was never cured.
Because of the slums, I hung,
I hung…with regret,
I was upset,
that I were so misled.
Because of the slums, I wandered,
My dreams hung…
though old sneakers,
on the wires of the ghetto.
Because of the slums, I survived,
the four seasons of pain,
but I survived the weathers…
though a robin, singing despite rain

Poet/ Writer/ Motivation Speaker

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