Houses burnt down to a powder ash, <br />Cars driving by with their music on blast, <br />Babies crying of hunger, <br />Their mothers they couldn't be younger, <br />Drug dealers at every drug free school zone, <br />But what can I tell you this is my home, <br />Its the getto but it will just have to do, <br />Every day someone dies but thats nothing new, <br />The worst part of all is the steriotypes, <br />People look at you like you dont know whats right, <br />But I'm very educated and I do know whats wrong, <br />To prejudge people for just being strong, <br />Being strong because they can survive, <br />In a place called the ghetto were many have died.<br /><br />Pablo Robles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-ghetto/
