Greetings from the Inner City of My Soul

I just want to proclaim, 'Whassup, Girl?'

(That greeting from the inner city of my soul toward you)

It's so fitting to say such, for

There's nothing Park Avenue or suburbia about you

when exuding youthful idealism hard core

amid a hapless decay from despair known as My Self

You're not predictable, typical, or apathetic...

Like my neglected avenues where love's dried up;

For your constant patrols break through my boarded-up defenses

Shaking my neighborhood, such a ghetto of haplessness

Girl, your aura revives the hopes I once possessed

Of being alive, of mattering

Like I used to carry with me

Until landing on the cold hard pavement--

My dreams beaten senseless

Girl, don't leave me stranded in the cold and rain

Like the others generously do...

Can I demonstrate my ability to shine?

If only we could escape together toward the stars

Away from the mean streets I wondered helplessly on

Until you dared to cross them