Every jungle has its beast

lndulge me in a tale…
entitled, Urban Creed.
Where children starve,
while predators feed.
Where tormented souls
are kept just within reach,
where a crude form of justice,
is the unspoken code of the streets.
Cops are handsomely rewarded,
for simply looking the other way,
along with their choice of fresh meat,
normally included along with their pay.
Late night sirens wail…
as local winos cringe,
in some dark alley,
after an alnight binge.
Players take to the streets,
adorned in colorful disguise,
bringing yet another tear,
to a tired mothers eye.
Past the unseen darkness,
where even hoes dare not stray,
children forced sell their poison,
to anyone who is willing to pay.
In the morning another body is found,
much to the local coroners lament.
Just another pretty face who couldn’t
keep her pimp happy and content.
lt is said, and l believe…
every jungle has its Beast…
patrolling their ghetto streets,
and gorging themselves at every feast.

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