WELFARE ASSISTANCE

Back then it was a different
kind of heat, I remember
calling mom till she looked out
the window, begging for money
for ice cream, when Mr. Softee
came jingling up the block,

most days she didn't have it,
it was hard for her to manage,
with welfare assistance on her own,
stretched to the bone,

a city is no village and
we weren't privileged, there were
days I wished that I was grown,

poverty stocked on every block,
stretches of vacant lots were
playgrounds for kids like us,

games of vivid imaginations,
full of fun and aspirations,
playing close to sundown,
where the crime
was world renowned.