I live in a doorway between ghetto and school life.
Quiet in class, dogs barking on every corner,
staying inside, cracked sidewalks,
lectures being given, being broken down
the rush to work, the rush to home.
I hear gunshots and screaming.
Conversations being held, buttons of a laptop,
the dragging of a pencil, the screams of kids,
the gates being shut, the music being played.
I live in the ghetto,
but transfer to school life.
I act different in both places,
but I’m still the same person.