Times change, people age and crime seems to pay.
Leaves fall like raindrops on a spring morning.
Birds chirp and pick at dirt.
Stains and scars glisten on the trees.
Blue skies make the sky limitless.
It is March and the air doesn't hurt as much.
Children yell and play all day on the playground.
The ice cream man drives around the city blocks.
Are we all locked?
Where are the cops?
Should I be stopped?
My brown skin thick as my hair.
I sigh and smile.
I'll leave for awhile.