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Border City

26 Jul

It’s no place to raise children,

cause there’s nothing for them to do,

but die young by donning blue and red,

robbing, raping, killing just to be apart of something,

to feel alive,

nothing to do but grow old and fat,

hop the border to drown their troubles 

for there are no jobs to go to,

because NAFTA took them all away.

A stagnant pool of crime and despair

glittering only in the reflection from a rearview mirror.

It is no place to raise children.

Yet, I still call it home.

Thanks goes to Adrian for inspiring this little verse. Learn more about Border City.

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2 Comments

Posted by on July 26, 2007 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: ,

2 responses to “Border City

  1. Ken

    July 30, 2007 at 1:53 pm

    I really enjoyed this poem. Seriously.

     
  2. Ty

    July 30, 2007 at 9:08 pm

    Thanks Ken! Seriously.

     

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