"Philadelphia"

"Philadelphia"

Philadelphia’s heard of,

The city of brotherly love.

The highest crime rate,

The weight of love dropped to hate.

Pennsylvania State,

Philadelphia’s the gate.

Every day on the news,

Tragedies from decisions people choose.

Some pray but most don’t freeze,

To perceive life in others shoes.

This maniac at the abortion clinic,

The owner was whack and sick.

A house of horrors behind hospital doors,

Murdering babies, covering the floors.

Ritalin and zanies, hiding in the drawers.

Kensington, this killer doesn’t use a gun.

A man’s strangling people for fun.

Raping women dumb, kills them done.

He’s on the run.

New Harlem, gun shots,

No alarms come.

Murderers, burglars, schizophrenic babblers.

The most, the worst, here it occurs.

Messed up hogs with no jobs,

Their neighbors that just slaughtered your dogs.

Popping pills like tic-tacs.

Stealing and dealing drugs to pay tax.

Addicts using tactics and tricks to get their next fix.

Michael Vick, dog abuse makes you sick.

But he plays the ball quick.

This is Philadelphia,

Every culture’s got a mafia.

Kids sipping vodka trying to be a gangsta.

Cities corrupt, another mans cuffed,

Now his brother’s got to erupt.

Clicks and gangs clips a gun just to hear how it bangs,

Youngling’s potential hangs.

His grills resemble fangs.

Violent, rose since an infant.

Kids using aggression to leave an imprint.

Kids want to fight to prove best.

Called a pussy if you don’t test.

Friends and enemies interest,

Crowd around and fest.

The pest who started the fight shows up in a vest,

Raises a gun and shoots his enemy in the chest,

And disappears from arrest.

Kid’s lying in his blood nest.

City of brotherly love, not so blessed.

R.I.P friend’s pity, holding their crest,

Praying in heaven he’ll rest.

Nobody guessed,

But they both lost.

The fight to be best,

Two lives cost.

"Shrooms"

"Shrooms"

(from the perspective of a boy talking to his older brother concering his drug addictions)

Why don’t you go shove your face with an eighth of shrooms?

Pace your room, wait until a new dimension blooms.

You can see the suspension in your eyes.

Black pupils doubled in size.

But it won’t be long until your saying your goodbyes.

The drugs intentions, you can’t control.

The chemical invention, you fantasize.

Forced imagination, reality dies.

The vivid hallucinations are your golden prize.

Your mind flies, as you mention you’ve experienced this many times.

You’re ideal of fun, eating magical mushrooms in a hamburger bun.

Over-dose, always close, but soon you’re done.

Your broke, can’t afford a paramedic.

You’re a joke, too messed up to be sympathetic.

If you survive though, have fun being schizophrenic.

No one can help you, in your mind “stop you,”

“Undefeatable” by human, but not by those pills you’ve been consuming.

Damn, that addiction you can’t disable.

Incapable, dreaming through life like a fable.

Swallowing pills out of a bottle with no label,

How did you become so unstable?

Good or bad influence, either way looked up to you ever since.

Following your footprints, need your guidance.

Since my existence, you were my inspiration.

I never had hesitation to help you out in a situation.

But I had a false realization that you were there for me.

But all that memory, I’ll always keep in my minds cemetery.

Like introducing me to drug using; first hit first high.

Kept it lit always gave me a try.

Spending time together, to me nothing was better.

I couldn’t wait to stay up late, smoke and talk, diminished hate.

You got me hooked on your obsessions.

Admired your advice, and these are my confessions.

Now I’m wired to afford a price for my own addictions.

Respect for my hero, has dropped to a zero.

Feel neglect, I just don’t show.

Bond is broken, now we haven’t spoken.

Your trust was a fail, bust me with betrayal.

When it came to the times you held me for blame,

Did you feel no shame?

I felt the pain but I never took aim.

I couldn’t do the same, looking down from my window frame.

I’m critiquing how you look so lame,

You need help sneaking in, calling my name.

But I usually keep tame with support, knowing you’d never do the same.

Just so I will hurry, you curse and throw a rock at my window.

But I’ve had enough and decided that was your last blow,

While yelling,

“Get more lost, go ahead!

Family’s tossed and you’re practically dead,

Your entire life’s cost, just to keep drugs in your head.”

Narrative Story

Short Story:

Everyday was a routine for me. Locked in a cramped metal cage was my life. No attention or freedom. I had no pride, being locked up. Twice a day I was brought a meal. It was never good, but you’d have to eat it if you didn’t want to starve. Creatures would come and stare at me and the others locked up in our metal cages, lying in newspaper drenched in our own urine. Every day big creatures came to stare at all of us, and examine us, like objects. With their long freakish arms they would pick us up and scratch our heads. Sometimes they would take one of the others, and never come back. I’m not sure what happens to them, but I am glad I’ve never been picked. I was born into this way of life. No knowledge of what goes on beyond the cages. I was woken every few hours from the sounds of the others crying, begging to be released. Everyone there was miserable. The smells and the sounds were atrocious. Thick stench of waste and putrid food was all you could breathe. The sounds of others howling and the sound of my little heart beating in my furry chest was depressing me. Knowing I was alive and cooped up not in charge of my own life and being scared of being taken away from the hell I was in was even scarier.

            For as long as I can remember, everyday was exactly the same; I was just a hopeless heart pounding in a locked cage. My little brown paws wedged against the metal bars left them sore. Snarling, my nose poked out of the cage. For the first time in my life something unordinary happened. The everyday routine was broken. The day the metal lock on the thick silver bars opened. The keeper forcefully dragged me out of my hell cage. I was placed in the arms of an ugly, big creature. I was terrified, too scared to try to break free. I was practically shaking as a few smaller creatures fondled over me. They began scratching and petting my head. They examined and observed me. I hid my long scraggly ears over my eyes. I was so nervous: I thought it would be the end for me if they take me away like the other dogs. Lying in the arms of the creatures, their cold, smooth, bald skin frightened me. The creature handed the keeper something and started walking out of the hell, through big doors. I began howling. I became more nervous than before. These creatures tried something to my neck. I tried to run away as we were walking outside. My legs felt so frail and weak, I hadn’t walked in so long. My paws stepping on something other than the cold metal cages and wet newspaper was amazing. I felt different, but still caught. I jerked and tugged running but not going anywhere. A leash tied to my neck began to suffocate me; this was when I began to panic. I knew they were trying to kill me now. I was losing my breath. All of a sudden I was swooped up and the chocker was released. In the arms of the big creature, the little creatures followed behind. I hid behind my ears not knowing where we were going. Soon enough we had arrived at a house. I was finally placed on my paws again. I remember looking around, seeing things I’ve never seen before. At the time, I was so confused. I knew they wanted me for something, but I didn’t know what.

            Two clean dishes were set before my giant brown eyes. One dish was of clean fresh water, and the other was a bowl of mouth-watering beef. I devoured the delicious food as the creatures rubbed my sore back. Days went by, and each day I was cared for, fed, walked, bathed and given comfortable blankets to lie on. I was allowed to run outside and play. The creatures played with me too. I was finally having fun in my life. The little creatures smiled, and giggled as they watched me. They showed me affection, something I never knew existed. I soon began to realize, that these creatures were here to help me, and love me rather than hurt me. I learned that things aren’t always what they seem.

Short story- Lost at the Amusement Park

   

      The little boy was frantic and panicking. The humid air made it harder for him to think. Sweat began to drip down the side of his face as tears began to fill his eyes. Bright lights, screams in ecstasy, rides moving and spinning at high-speed cluttered the young boy’s thought concentration. The amusement park was packed with hundreds of people, strangers rushing past him. The little boy came to the amusement park with his sister and her friends. Cautious and frightened of the huge rides, the little boy waited outside the lines for his sister and her friends to get off. He felt completely ignored the entire time, watching everyone else have fun while he was dragged along. His sister’s friends teased him for being afraid of the rides. They tried to persuade him and convince him of the fun and thrill he’d experience on the roller coasters. When the little boy would look up at the speeding rides, and hear the loud shocking screams that were being projected from the people on the rides, he became more nervous. He would quickly shake his head in refusal, and sit and wait on the pavement waiting for them to finish each ride.

The little boy waited and waited at the end of the line where his sister arranged to meet him after the big roller coaster. He grew nervous, and anxious as the time slowly passed. The blistering heat of the sun made the waiting time feel much longer than usual.  As the big summer sun floated above the little boy, his face became flushed. He was so overheated that beads of sweat began to dampen his shirt. He lightly cried in concern as he rested his head in his clammy hands.

The big roller coaster was on its twentieth run since his sister and her friends went on it. He waited so long he memorized the exact pattern the coaster went in. He would sing the pattern to himself as he waited, but as he waited longer and longer he began to consider that maybe his sister wasn’t coming back for him after all. The song he wrote about the patterns of the coaster altered from a cheerful tune, to a haunting melody.

The boy memorized every detail of the coaster into his mind. The rusty red paint was peeling off the sides of the carts. The loud sound of the coaster traveling up the steep hill of the track ticked in his ears like a timer. The most horrifying remembrance of the coaster was the shrieking halt the coaster would come to at the end of the ride. The noise and the look of the awful jerk made him shudder. The repetition of the big roller coaster was beginning to make the young boy sick. He had lingered where he last saw his sister for what seemed like hours and hours. The little boy began to make his way through the amusement park in exploration for his sister and her friends. His trembling little hands uneasily tugged at the end of his red striped shirt in desperation for comfort. He dodged between and around the hundreds of strangers that paced and dashed past him to get in line for the rides. The little boy imagined himself trapped in a maze. With every step he took he swung his head from side to side peering in every direction in search for his sister. Unfamiliar faces clogged his sight. The boy visualized each ride functioning in every direction as a monster. As a death trap that took his sister away and never let her go. 

As the boy hobbled around the outlandish people in the park, he snapped out of his imaginations of the monstrous park rides and focused on the reality of the troubling situation he was wedged in. He grasped the understanding that for once in his life he would have to step up to the responsibility and be the hero. He doubted that his sister or any of her friends even noticed that he was forgotten. The little boy made up his mind that he would have to find them himself, and the only way to catch sight of his older sister would be from the highest point of the park. The amusement park spread over a huge portion of flat land. Gift shops, bathrooms, game booths, food carts and ice cream stands filled the gaps between the amusement park rides. Everything in the park was designed for entertainment purpose. The boy climbed on top of a bench and smeared the droplets of sweat off his forehead. With his tiny, muggy hands he blocked the sun from his sight to compare the heights of the rides. He scoped out the tallest rollercoaster that would allow him to find his sister. He was sure he would be able to find her from such a steep height; he assumed he would have a perfect chance to spot her from the top of the hill. 

After all the pressure and teasing the boy was put through from his older sisters friends, and the abandonment and trauma he dealt with while wandering the park, lost for his first time- he became fearless of the rollercoaster. As an advantage to the little boy’s height, he was short enough to sneak around the lines to make it to the front. The roller coaster was already there; all different kinds of people were seating themselves in the cart and fastening the safety bars. The boy jumped into the cold metal seat of the coaster and clutched the safety bar firmly. The wide coaster seat made him feel lonelier.  All of a sudden, the boy’s sister steps into the same cart. The boy’s face is filled with relief. The coaster tugged forward and the boy was reminded of the fear he had towards roller coasters. He wrapped his little arms around his sister, and the coaster slowly began to haul its way up the steep track.