Black gates fence us in like lions in the zoo.

The sound of sirens awaken the hummingbirds in the trees, pushing them away from the chaos.

Gunshots and screams echo in the air, as gunpowder marinates the wind.

Porches secure the building like knights at a castle.

Garbage cans overflow with lottery tickets, the ground is infested with diapers, and cigarette butts.

The stairs creak with scandal and abuse, while the owners use the cracks to contain their secrets.

Emergency lights spark like campfires in July.

The windows reflect the hardships of its tenants, while the frames hide the struggles of families.

Poverty devours my backyard.

Crime devours my streets.