Poetry

Out in The Streets, there is no perfect world
So in my solitude, I make my own
I do not believe in the problems that plague my mind
But would rather stay in my fairytale land
The space I seek is a far cry from gunshots, ambulances and hate
But rather music, dances and harpiscords..
I world rather live in my so called made up world in my head
Than take my chances on the streets............
The world is filled with violence, anger and there is a jungle wall
I would like to think that I have solved the problem; in my one bedroom apartment, I am just waiting for it to come in.