| It's said the body is a temple. Mine of course would be the projects. Brick hard, bitter cold, at times blistering hot. Marked, inked & scarred up from years of toil. A breeding ground for the gang mentality. The wiring don't always work. Elevator don't always go the way up. But it houses pride. And a strength that only surviving years of hardships can make. Loud music and harsh words blare from top to bottom. A pulse and vibe flow thru it like no where else. The windows of my soul stare out harshly and suspiciously at outsiders and passersby. Full of felonies & drugs. Anger & violence. And hold the wisdom & knowledge of those who have come before. As well as the innocence of the young ones. Watched by police. Feared by those that don't understand. Yet nowhere is warmer or safer to come home to.
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