The mobile ghetto

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Where I live and what I see.

Submitted: November 11, 2014

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Submitted: November 11, 2014

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The mobile ghetto

Mobile home parks around the USA have one thing in common.

Like any other ghetto you have good people helping their community if you lived in one you could see.

Not just one race a mobile ghetto holds but many all with the same hopes and dreams so it seems.

Some trying to make a fast buck the wrong way and that’s all I have to say.

Don’t do the crime if you can’t do time rhyme comes to mind.

Me working hard fixing, repairing, welding, wrenching what ever it takes to keep the money coming in.

At the end of the day I sit out in the mobile ghetto and play my acoustic guitar listing to the drum beat of the neighbor down the way playing a rhythm of metal I’d have to say.

Me strumming the blues or a future metal song I just get the words bouncing in my head so strong.

Ah a painting to describe my song, an abstract like VanGoh would do, would complement it so true.

God bring the chords to meet the words bouncing around my mind.  

Neighbor lady down the way heard me playing blues this day and she had to say.  

“What you playing blues for” ?

I just smiled and said, “I live in a mobile ghetto my friend”.

Many hopes and dreams for everyone it seems.

And no matter where you are in the world we all have a dream of a better life.
But livin in a mobile ghetto no body cares to know.

By nos482 06/29/2010



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