I wanna talk about a place, where concrete jungles
Echo with the symphony of struggle,
where hope’s just a shadow
Amongst the alleyways where dreams go to die
Yet still, every heartbeat tells a tale, a silent cry.
Here the streets wear the scars of countless souls,
Each step, a dance with destiny paying its tolls.
It’s where the broken find solace in shattered Dreams,
And every whispered prayer echoes in silent screams
In these streets, time moves differently, you see,
Seconds stretch into eternities, moments set free.
It’s a place where pain is painted in every hue,
And the Sky above seems a distant shade of blue.
Where every corner holds a story untold,
Of battles fought and victories sold.
It’s where the forgotten find refuge in the night,
And every flickering streetlight holds a flicker of fight
beneath the chaos, there’s a rhythm to be found.
In the heartbeat of humanity, on this sacred ground.
It’s a song of resilience, of strength unspoken,
In the eyes of the weary, in the hearts broken.
So here’s to Skid Row, where the brave still roam
Where every step forward feels like coming home.
For in the struggle, there’s a beauty to behold,
In the streets of Skid Row, where stories unfold.
Skid Row, where the city’s heartbeat pounds,
Concrete canyons echo with the city’s sounds.
Here, the streets speak a language of their own,
Where every shadow hides a story, unknown.
Neon lights shine, illuminating pathways
Lighting up the dark spaces where the demons
Love to hideaway
Cut reality bites hard, with a vicious sting
In this concrete jungle, where hope’s on a string.
Where the homeless hustle and the addicts sway,
And the lost souls wander, night and day.
It’s survival of the fittest in this urban sprawl,
Where every step forward feels like a crawl.
Yet in the chaos, there’s a beauty deeply hidden
Within the graffiti that decorates the buildings.
It’s a silent symphony of struggle,
a dance with destiny, full of despair,
In the heart of the city, where the laws of the land
are not fair.
Skid Row, where the streets never sleep,
Where they deal out empty promises
And greed preys on the weak.
Intertwined in the grit and the grime, there’s a
spirit so resilient.
In the heartbeat of the city, beneath the tall buildings.
Skid Row,
A canvas painted in shades of trauma
Where the brilliant go to be forgotten.
In the marrow of the city,
Where the wealthy indulge and love to play.
Like the roadmap of hardship,
Where people are struggling from day to day.
Here, the hopeless find sparks of inspiration in
Their artistic flare
Amongst the hearts of the giving
In folks who truly care.
In the eyes of the castaways, you can see their
Hearts are broken.
Each one a hidden space from the truths unspoken
Where every piece of the land is infused with pain
From the young and old
And the weight of existence plus surviving is a heavy load
In the silence of the streets, voices cry out,
Songs of the lowly spirits shunned and displaced
In the shadows of doubt.
But within this urban labyrinth, beneath the veil
In the depths of adversity, humanity prevails.
For the hearts of the forgotten, a blame still burns,
Stories of success, sorrow, and forgiveness from
each have its turn.
Skid Row, a living example to the human plight,
Yet within its depths, shines a beacon of light.
For amidst the chaos and the urban decay,
Hope persists, in the most profound way.
Hunting grounds for the weak, where sweeps
Throw people’s lives away.
Where you are treated like trach, and 5 people die a day
It’s a playground for the hustler, a stage for the bold,
Where runaways go missing and cases grow cold.
Here, the asphalt a canvas, graffitied with many hoes,
Each tells it own tale in the mural they pose.
In the dirt of the hand of the destitute,
In the grime of this city’s streets
Is a place where innocent beauties fall prey to the beasts.
Skid Row, where the lifestyle is imbedded with
violent schemes
And hope’s a currency in short supply, it seems.
Yet amidst the concrete and the urban sprawl,
Lies a community, standing tall.
For thin the cracks of the pavement, flowers bloom,
And in the darkest alleys, there’s still room
For laughter to echo and friendships to thrive,
In the heart of the city, where the downtrodden strive.
Skid Row, where the clever and the wise
Find harmony in struggle, strength in disguise.
It’s a lesson, a testament to grit, our survival,
In this concrete jungle, where your destiny
is determined upon your arrival.
Witten by Natosha Smith 06/26/2024
All rights reserved.
