Some nights, I stand out on
my balcony and look past
The allyway and homes,
with their cluttered yards and
broken fences.
I ignore the smells, the screams,
and loud music of the ghetto.
I pretend the light doesn’t obscure
the sky and look up
to imagine the thousands
of stars
and the places beyond,
the skies I’ll never see,
and the home I never had.
