"Respect"
#5 of Poetry, both old and new
A poem that describes how the days of my life once were, when I had my own "reputation" on the streets, before I found my now dearly departed mate and let him convince me to attend college.
"Respect"
By Ken Anderson, 13 September, 2009
No, I've never felt
Such calm and such peace,
As when I have walked
These crowded streets.
With nods and smiles,
They call out to me,
To offer me greetings,
Or something to eat,
"Do you need a smoke, sir? "
"Hey, I've got some weed, "
"It's always good to see you
Here, Mr. C."
I just smile and I nod,
And say nothing at all,
I just give them a wave,
And remind them to call.
The dealers, the junkies,
The sets and police,
They all know my name,
On the cracked Houston streets.
I know it's respect that
They're showing to me,
For all that I've done as
Who I used to be.
The scars on my knuckles
Still have yet to fade,
I carry my violence
And two deadly blades.
And those who once knew me,
As I was before,
They bow and they nod,
And they offer me more.