Welcome to Gaia! ::

Post your best work. biggrin

St. Rat

Hands thrown up
In an obscene gesture.
Voices raised,
With unclean words.
Insults tossed
From mislead hearts.

Bass thumping
From chromed out cars.
Air bags hiss
Like angry snakes.
Contests held to
Prove the best.

Bottles passed 'round
Foaming at the mouth.
A ring of smoke
You can't escape.
The reflection of the
Jesus piece around his neck.

The girls are skimpy
Heels, skirts, and flesh
The boys are rowdy,
Baggy, clean and rough.
Everyone fights to prove
Themselves and what they're worth.

No joke that half
The boys here,
Probably got a
Glock on'em.
No joke that
All the girls are just
Lost and misguided.


Shots ring out
Like death's bell.
Tires squeal like
Sacred children.
Time to return fire.

In the end they all go home,
Or that's the plan.
Some don't get to,
A bullet hit its target,
Someone's gonna cry tonight.

They all may just be,
Street rats and gutter trash,
But that's not all they are,
Some are thugs and chica's
Brothers and sisters,
Family and friends,
Sons and daughters,
St. Rat is a title,
But it won't be
What's on their gravestone, will it?