Like a wildflower the people here are
hard-workers but show no improvement.
The constant chatter, the defining noise
It seems they come and go just like weeds.
They don’t die, or fade with the wind.
They can be like flies – annoying,
but more than you’d expect.
Everyday those who smoke,
if its Motown girl, or Teresa up stairs, or Keegan,
they burn out just like the street lights above our cars.
Their lives like weeds and cigarettes give way to just
puttering around showing little triumph or stability.
Their SSI, Medi-Care and Financial Aid checks
vanish between a snap of fingers.