richard poor - american narrative

i grew up with the promises
sweet, golden, yet never fulfilled
i worked the meaneal jobs for livin wages, only there wasnt much to live on, merely exist
from sad ghetto windows
hollow, burned out
i watched snow fall like jesus
renewing the earth for us to dirty
felt no reform in prison but the solitude
held the flag high if no other reason
worshipped the neon gods of night
spilled into the ragged eyes
try, buy, something new
only nothing is new
only innocence that we dirty
i saw dreamers killed
no future but the one wanted
gorged myself on the banquets of glory
lived on the crumbs of remorse
danced in the street so violent as a matador
each step as if fate held
life, death
and death was the only certainty.

richard poor

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/american-narrative/