I can hear the echoes of a dreamer but first I have to get you to understand this dreadful place that I recall so dearly...
A place where people often leave never to return...
It’s a condition for some but a reality for many...
We cannot pretend like we don’t know this place exists but I swear to you it’s real.
No one wants to be bothered with this pit of the earth but it’s still around and has been for centuries...
A place where there’s not much love...
A place where most babies never get to see the light of day...
A place where drugs rule the households...
A place where the seat of a father is often empty...
Gunshots fired in the heat of the night, where friends die young...
A place where odd things occur when people see miracles and beautiful flowers... miracles that make watchers paranoid with no empathy while indulging in the green leaf...the forbidden plants. Cheap is a better deception of saving to be rich, it’s a lie, don’t fall victim pay close attention to your financial advisor’s wristwatch because he or she is supposed to be on call.
To dream is a gift in this place, but the hunger to escape is real...
Women cry often in this place, they’re bumped and bruised up...rough; attractive little girls get molested and raped, many now have artistic symbols embedded on their flesh...to sugarcoat it would be unauthentic and fog up the message. The message that I have to make clear.
Girls cut themselves for love and content, they find hope in gospels of fairytales...a social worker’s puzzle.
Don’t be amazed if you see different shades of hair and fake eye colors with little boys checking the mirror. I’ve been in this state of mind, therefore, I’m a witness, but you must come as you are for change to take place.
You can run and you can hide but no matter what color you are this place is real.
School dropouts, bars and scares from prisons...
Speeches of kings who observe the forgotten people that are handpicked when they have a lot to offer.
Tribes emerge in this place, they emerge because the only thing they know are the streets and they have to mark their territory.
The solution is simple, at the end of the day join hands with your brothers and sisters and comfort them when they cry, lift your voice in a song if you’re suffering and sit still when you’re hungry so your fuel to find something to eat can last.
The keys to survival are to read everything around you because those who made it out have left clues; stay away from things that clog up your system and thoughts because the voice of reason is more powerful than any man can deceive; find a program that is good for you because wasted time is another lost opportunity and never forget that a dream is always a light in a dark place. Here’s a bonus clue: Fun in the streets often doesn’t end well so learn the languages that people use to communicate. God’s language is always peace.
Lastly, keep this in mind when you walk down a dark alley, if you find out how the street light works— you yourself will be the new light at the end of a very dark tunnel.
Sweet dreams,
The Streets
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