[Si] TV

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The 80s.
Crack decorated the hallways, urine seeped its way out the broken
elevators. But we were innocent so we lived.
Where cops where the biggest gang and heroin had our loved ones leaning
back before fat Joe's song did.
Roaches leaping out of our cereal boxes for they even made there way
into our fridges,
Rats and mouses out numbered house hold pets like it was normal and
freedom was vivid.
Then aids raped our youth colorblind to race, age or creed. Bully us to
our coffins. But soon those tears would leave.
Toes peeked out of the holes in our sneaker soles, days on end we worn
off the same clothes so much they could walk on there own if we ever
bothered to leave them alone.
No responsibilities as long as the antenna on our black and white floor
models let us watch the cartoons that kept us glued to our chairs when
the corners called us to our tombs.
Speechless sites, Seat less bikes, seedless life these young girls
aborted life. Nike's dangled from telephone lines that witnessed those
911 calls. Ambulance rides though no one could afford it .
We died twice yet they still read us our rights.
One way tickets to heaven were free over here but they taking crackers
to space for 20 mill. Where men died for territory that wasn't never
there's for property that wasn't worth a Canadian dime. But we chilled.
We grabbed mics instead of pipes, spray cans instead of trying to slay a
man. Man! We break danced through all this bullshit.
Oh the 90s
the imperfect masterpiece on the walls,
the uncommon reality of returning home kept us busy. The urban
inspiration to yearn for more but be to be grateful for what has been
our greatest teachers.
Its those moments you can't retrieve through still pictures just in the
Rolodex of the mind.
The early years yet East new york still the last of the untapped,
untouched but forgotten civilization.
Still in its grime. its a beautiful struggle.
Every block is a hard lesson.
Every corner decorated with the whys.
Every curb, Pot hole, crater embedded on the surface of our skin cause
we are the streets.
Kids in the johnny pump, mothers in there windows, the sirens are the
sound tracks, the shots fired were our curfews.
East new york the back bone of Brooklyn.
Even through these instances we made it past our differences and into
the 21st century.
Times it feels if not step has been made. When you turn around to
realize we've made it past 2 decades.
Clouds over us like veils, the enemy at our tails, and to think its been
7 years since them towers have fell.
Now we got tornadoes in NY, snow in Miami and the south kings of rap. So
I wanna go back. Back, back
Back to Brooklyn. Where in east new york everything is still intact.