Essay About Ghetto

A world where to be a man you have to be able to walk the land. A world where ‘bitch’ is a household word. A world where good men have to sleep with one eye open all the time. A world where you’re born with a man-made disease called ‘color’. A world where good men die first. A world that society neglects and ignores a ghetto child’s cries. A world that chose not to hear ghetto children’s voices in our music and is intimidated by our writings. A world that really doesn’t understand our struggle. We live, only to be judged by someone on the outside looking in. A world where, when a ghetto soldier makes it out of the ghetto they have to forget where they came from to satisfy the man on the outside looking in. A world that knocks everything ghetto

A lot of these people are not at peace, and even the ones with a little cash sometimes fall off. For instance, if they were to get in a sticky situation like the loss of money, most of them couldn’t handle the fact that they have to start over. Their kids are raised using silver spoons when we’re used to brass spoons, forks, and knives. Ghetto soldiers don’t have those types of privileges, so we use our hands. They live in places where fireworks are only used for entertainment and neighborhoods have parks that feature festivals for the 4th of July. They can afford the best fireworks, so they always have better fireworks shows than the ghetto soldier.

Their heroes are usually judges, police, lawyers, doctors, and businessmen. Those are the idols their kids are raised with. They are the people that end up on the bench judging a poor man’s fate when ghetto soldiers step outside the concrete jungle’s walls. They are the people who wake up to the birds and the bees while ghetto soldiers wake up to gunfights, police sirens, weed smoke, and dusties. Their favorite thing is to down everything positive ghetto soldiers do to survive in the