Feilds of Dreams

Dreams get lost in my city every single day. Sons die, mothers cry and communities are constantly left mourning. We long for change, but ain't got enough change to catch a ride on the city bus. With too much pride to beg for a transfare we just wait with the hope that someone might pass us who knows us and give us a ride.

Milwaukee little city of dreams. People outside the city don't know the city. This city ain't no punk! The only other city with worse conditions than Milwaukee that I have been to was Detroit. Not to down the D, becuz I got plenty of love for all my Michigan peeps. I'm just making the comparison. The rust belt affect of the whole midwest region is still to this day affecting us.

Not only is their a lack of industry, but there is a lack of hope in the people. Desperation and degradation plauge the ghettoes so badly that the people wear the expressions of hopelessness on their faces.

I appreciate this ghetto living for all that it has given to me. Though it has taken much away from me. It has made me strong.