Negril.com Arts and Culture Blog

The Streets

The streets we live in consume our lives
Taking our children; hurting our wives.
It’s armed with weapons; guns and knives.
Striking by day; ruining by night.
The thick black yearns to be quenched,
Hence each day a new soul it must drench.

The streets we roam lay silent but deadly,
Dancing down stream an upbeat medly.
A little girl cries out for a rem’dy,
But it dares not to care who’s ready.
The thick black swallows our destinies and dreams.
And laughs in our face when a young boy screams.

The streets we know captivate with no escape.
You think you’ve overcome it, but you’re just the bait.
A dark plan it cultivates on a ruff slate.
Who’s next on the list? There’s not a long wait.
The thick black feeds on blood droplets and tears.
Pranced and ready to steal; lurking in darkened corners near.

The street we live in rip us apart,
Feasting away with each broken heart.
Armed with negativity and sorrow,
Constantly filling our lives with dreadful horror.
A little girl cries and we must reply.
These black streets shan’t be the reason I die.

R.I.P. my dear nephew, brother and friend(Raheem, Bolas & Pia)

By Tasheika Terry Ann Nesbetby