First Person: Sitting in Hell

By Andree McKissick

Sitting in Hell, feeling like in jail but thinking beyond I must expel because this homeless letter will make everything better tears run down my eye as I see black people die and listen to their babies cry I ask myself why what happened to our people they let their lives go the situation goes strait to the temple in my heart, I want to explode, but my composure I must hold because this homeless letter will make everything better as I watch my people sleep on mats. Because problems, alcohol, crack got them like that. I can’t sleep because of the order and I’m and I’m constantly looking over my shoulder as these suffering kids and babies grow older and the pain inside.

I can no longer hide the situation can’t be denied when over and over I tried thinking of slavery and the price Harriet Tubman paid just to watch our people pay their own grave thinking of Martin Luther King Jr. and the song he used to sing, “We Shall Overcome Some Day” what a hell of a price to pay just to watch our people throw their lives away. What happened to striving to be can every boy, women, or man. What happened to the fight I guess it all ended in the drug world of the night. Illegal business controls the world if your not illegal your not thorough but what the man, woman, boy, or girl that’s lost in the drug world.

The pain I feel is so real I think I could kill but, I must chill because this homeless letter will make everything better.

Copyright Homeless Grapevine Summer 1993 Issue 2 Cleveland, Ohio.