Hood Bold
By: J. Koppe
What it is? What it look like?
It's just a new school saying
from a young new player.
The words riddle me a little, just as the simple.
I stay in the middle.
Puzzled and Quizzed as I step on through the hood,
I grew up in.
Signs and inklings of times hardly pasted.
People thinking, how did could he last?
Laughs as I breeze on passed.
Only common glances of those now considered trash.
Would be nice to receive some courtesy,
instead of all the curt's and the clash.
Those there live looking at whatsoever margins to gain.
When it's all gone with the wind in the end.
Some are dead like me looking for a safe lane.
I try to keep a good name.
I can't seem to mention the things buzzing along in my brain.
Or, it could just be the sound of the 5-0 sirens,
Looking for some suspected sucker, for front page aims.
Eyes set to red, I'm still that bull, that bull who just won't budge til' I'm blue.
Because I'm still here in my hometown stuck like a Sphinx!
Back at home ain't going anywhere else.
Here doodling in my ink, and I'm going to try to get things fixed.
Here, Here to you my hood!
What's the message you bring? I can at least give you back a legible concept.
This quest of mine I give to you daily.
Because all I get are scribbles and faded signals of the memories of my hood.
What a riddle?
Though I stay straight dab in the middle.