children this is your mother city Porciuncula
calling and wailing when i feel your fall
i anger i ponder cry in agony
i’ve watched you grow in my neighborwombs
i’ve watched you writhe in the pain of isolation
i’ve withstood you raising your hand in anger and murder
against your siblings my streetveins flow through
your souls and while your spirits are still in the hearts
of your flesh ancestors your ache and loneliness
emblazoned on flags of blue red and black
demarking ancestral bruising
how can i avenge you my children
when i simultaneously incubate the demise
perhaps the answer lies
in my children rising up and punching with their brains
honoring themselves with their mind
and claiming your royal given right to rise and be you
words less spoken 
Neighborwombs and streerveins – I love how you have personified the city (is it LA?) beautifully and that last line, so hopeful! Your response to the prompt is above par!
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Yes its LA. Porciuncula is its old time name, it means little piece in Italian, roughly 🙂 i really appreciate you taking the time to read. i guess its my way of
grieving some of the negative issues that plague the city. yet, there are also beautiful and human aspects to all lives, especially our young. i dont want to romanticize what goes on, but the reasons behind the violence at times could be resolved, we just need to love our human race a lot more. again thanks for reading 🙂
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