I keep looking at these trees
From this window, I can see
Them inside the cemetery
Each evening and now
They stand between me and the sky
I imagine weeping willows in the south

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Bright Blue Skies

Bright blue skies clothe inner city lies.
There’s a quitter entangled in, “how many times I have to try.”
Curious to know your real motives,
Hands over my eyes in disbelief when I seen the real molders.

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Child of the Ghetto

By AF Young child of the ghetto, Through your eyes I can see the pain, Memories of the past roaming through your brain, Friends, family, and the people we used to know blood’s been washed up by the rain. Your heart then grew colder, and acts of violence have gotten bolder, Feeling the whole world…

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