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Untitled by Lamar Levs

Suns shines on this city
As if it had been built in the clouds
Is that why Hell’s the limit instead of the sky?
We holy city kids
So, of course, called angels then
But some of them angels from then
Are grown demons now
If a mother’s tears were gold
Well, this city has made a fortune
How many graves have bloomed, how many bodies have fallen
Deep…down in the dungeons
With no release
Cold city but hot streets: exit, exist, or cease
But God gave us a way, which I truly believe
Would clean and nurture this city
Most naturally
If everyone helped the next to plant their seeds
We’d grow our city from dreams into reality.