5 ft deep to red clay meets the hard pan I was never a soft boy to grow into a hard man . 4 generations my forefathers had come from a far land to where most would die young. 3 thousand reasons I could think of slip away into the seasons I seen to explain why I can never go back if there was a way back it had long since turned. 2 generic these words I'm going to erase is my home deserves better in this prompt and disgrace. 1 last one no one can ever make me go back take me back to the land of concrete cracks and the lack and there would be no love for the all the loved ones that I've ever loved have gone now to the cloud above or the bellows of hell the fire bellows and tails all the truth and horror and all the lies and sales and the crooked blocks in perfect symmetry I grew up next to the elementary people where I'm from don't write poems and if they did they would never show them they only make plans and execute problems as long as it's counterfeit as long as it's worth hardly ever worth the argument it seems so hell-bent I seem so torn the land not so far away I'll watch and mourn it seem to slip away though my fingers dry I cannot grasp a hold I did not get to say goodbye I can feel this rhythm it beats deep in my chest at the woods and pass her by on the train tracks that have left and to the right side I see only a glow used to be miles away Old City Fresno the separation of the two and I'll stick together worse than permanent glue isolated all alone I wish a thousand stars I bet a thousand times and God can never answer or bring me back the vine the grape is gone and fallen the raising his seed I'm no longer than man I once was I am a dying breed I'm from the neighborhood that neighborhood the one where all the kids go oh