Priorities & Escape

I wished I lived in a neighborhood that valued art more than weed or intelligence over “swag”.
I wished I lived where  I could cop a canvas with regularity instead of view dices thrown.
Pants below asses, ass over class, classes below average, and average is respected?
The need to get out is in banging against my chest like the drums of my ancestors
while in others it is as faint, in some even nonexistent, as the knowledge of their past!
I wished I lived where there was life- NOT the pathetic day in day out excuse for living
monotone humdrum tune that lays beneath each rumble and breath of where I reside.
I wish that priorities were correct and escape was near not just for me but for all
but life is that way and the queer are ignored and in a crowd you are lonely and sometimes you sink and other times you put pen to paper or brush to canvas and release it all.
I wish sometimes- most times I didn’t feel like I don’t belong…


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