Voice of my Street

Greens are turning yellow

Hearts becoming hollow

Voices from my neighbourhood

From childhood to adulthood.

 

Trees are still waving

Thunder still drumming

Voices here and there

Voices everywhere.

 

Gentlemen still cracking weed

Masses still struggling to feed

While luxurious cars ride on the bridge

My street people sleep under bridge.

 

Sometimes our sun shines bright

Whether the time is wrong or right;

And when the rain chooses to pour

Voices of my street go sour.

 

We need the rain to bring new life

We need the sun to live and thrive

Let the rich tread on the poor

At night the poor will break their door.

The masses speak but never heard

My people work twice as hard

I am the voice of my street

Speaking for the strong and weak.

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