Street Poetry

I SIT HERE EVERYDAY, WATCHIN’ YOU RUSH AWAY

I WRITE DOWN WHAT YOU WEAR

WORDS IN PROSE OF SKIRTS AND SUITS

IN BLUES AND GREYS, SUCH BAD TASTE

YOUR RUNNIN’ WHEN IT RAINS,

TOO LATE TO CATCH THE TRAIN

THE WORK JUST HAS TO WAIT

MOST OF YOU I’VE LEARNED TO RECOGNIZE BY SIGHT

AS YOU WALK BY

I WRITE IT DOWN IN RHYMES ABOUT YOUR BUSY LIVES

INVISIBLE TO YOU, A MIRROR OF THE EDGES OF SOCIETY

RICH IN POVERTY

I’M THE OUTSIDER, THE OBSERVER

THE OUTCAST, THE WORD CONSERVER

I’M INSPIRED BY THE STREETS

SOME DAY IT WILL BE IN MY BIOGRAFFITI

I’M JUST RECITIN’ MY STREET POETRY

MIGHT MEAN NOTHIN’ MUCH TO YOU,

BUT IT’S THE WHOLE WORLD TO ME

I’M JUST RECITIN’ MY STREET POETRY

MIGHT MEAN NOTHIN’ MUCH TO YOU,

BUT IT’S THE WHOLE WORLD TO ME

NOTHIN’ MUCH TO YOU,

BUT IT’S THE WHOLE WORLD TO ME

THAT GUY HAS GOT A MORTGAGE

AND CHILDREN, BET THEY’RE GORGEOUS

BUT AS I READ HIS EYES I KNOW HE’S UNHAPPY

WITH HIS GREEDY WIFE AND HIS DAILY LIFE

I’VE SEEN THE GREY MASSES, SLAVES TO HIGHER CLASSES

SOMEDAY SOMEWHERE SOMEHOW

SOMEONE WILL RELEASE MY BOOK OF POETRY

OR AT LEAST A PIECE

I’M THE OUTSIDER, THE OBSERVER

THE OUTCAST, THE WORD CONSERVER

I’M INSPIRED BY THE STREETS

SOME DAY IT WILL BE IN MY BIOGRAFFITI

I’M JUST RECITIN’ MY STREET POETRY

MIGHT MEAN NOTHIN’ MUCH TO YOU,

BUT IT’S THE WHOLE WORLD TO ME

I’M JUST RECITIN’ MY STREET POETRY

MIGHT MEAN NOTHIN’ MUCH TO YOU,

BUT IT’S THE WHOLE WORLD TO ME

NOTHIN’ MUCH TO YOU,

BUT IT’S THE WHOLE WORLD TO ME

RECITIN’ MY STREET POETRY

I’M JUST A WRITER OF STREET POETRY

MIGHT MEAN NOTHIN’ MUCH TO YOU

BUT IT’S EVERYTHING TO ME