My Home Town

I can still smell the sweetness in the air, it's in my home town, you see I grew up there
Everyone mowed their lawns on Saturday, just before night,
and all the housewives baked
their breads with recipes that were light.
Not one family swore or scorned, but everybody enjoyed tooting their own horn
The lightning bugs often flew very low, every evening you could see their glow.

I can still smell the sweetness in the air, you see it's my home town, I grew up there
All the men went to work everyday, and all the children went outside to play
Nothing but a perfect life in this town, no one ever even frowned
This is my world that I made to believe, if this could be my life I would not feel so deceived

Instead I was born in the Bronx in roach infested home, I fought everyday just to hold my own
Sometimes I was truthful, sometimes I lied, no one seemed to care whether I lived or died
Men were few and my father I never knew, and the women,
so depressed, they just ate for something to do
No lightning bugs in this cement town, everybody so angry they just wore a permanent frown
Hate and anger was the only sounds I ever heard,
I soon learned the permanence of their militant words.

I can still smell the sweetness in the air, you see it's my home town and I grew up there.

by Terry A Harrison

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