the ghetto ain’t get me

You see,

I’m from the ghetto

but the ghetto ain’t get me.

Just a temporary cave

for my immigrant family.

It was a place for our start

but never our destiny.

It has its place in my heart

but not intellectually.

Because I’m from the ghetto

but the ghetto couldn’t keep me.

The streets were too small

and the promises empty.

I knew there was more

than how they showed me on TV –

I never believed I had to be

          a baller or emcee.

          a dealer or junkie.

          a victim or flunkey.

Never believed I needed

fame or my name

in lights on a marquee.

Knew my claim was the same

as the makers of history.

Had no shame that my name

was buried in mystery.

‘Cause you see,

I’m from the ghetto

but the ghetto ain’t in me.

The ghetto ain’t my home,

it’s an alien country.

Just a puzzle in a maze

with walls that you don’t see.

It’s a death trap for men

whose ancestors weren’t gentry.

It’s the last place to start

for a legitimate entry.

They tried to steal my head

and my heart, but the

ghetto ain’t get me.

originally written around 1991-92: dug it out after viewing a bunch of Def Jam Poetry (because of a Borland recommendation) and recalling my own stints on stage. (ha.)

Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2009. All rights reserved.