Ghetto

In the alley

the rain fell

I got the sense

without overwhelming evidence

that there was a battle going on

Drabness and depression

were winning the day

Bent gutter spouts

channeling the rain

to misdirected destinations

Dirt and grime

clinging like a blanket

to surfaces horizontal

and vertical

and otherwise of which there were many

If there was more rotted wood

or peeling paint

I couldn’t tell

but there were plenty of both

to swell the ranks

of the steadily falling army

with an attack

that wasn’t so much physical

as it was visual

As color was being pressed

into the concrete itself

absorbed by wet and grey

It was a blood bath

and despair ran thick and quick

Or was that just dirty water

streaming between the yards

carrying red, blue, and yellow

to its polluted drowning pool?

I could feel the sadness

creeping into my heart

on a furtive mission of sabotage

One more victim

savaged by the dull, tasteless barrage

But green fought on

in one yard

enclosed with broken fence

and falling wall

tired brick and picket

the green of the grass

stood alone

valiantly

it turned to my heart and said

I will be here when this battle is over

and I will be brighter for it

its been raining for days

but I’m hoping to see

color again

like I was promised

and in the green of the grass

and the red of my heart

blue, yellow, and red

will laugh at the folly of the rain

and its overinflated ego

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