{"sf1_id":1925270,"sf2_id":"7ejxNLwn","title":"\"Respect\"","author":"MyOwnParasite","words":158,"posted_at":"2022-11-25T12:09:00.000Z","tags":["Crime","Hustling","Organized Crime","Poetry","gang","life","nonfiction","survival","truth"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1925270-respect","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/7ejxNLwn","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/28/3f/283f20f0-fa00-443d-ab40-d40fc5c75d1d","description":"#5 of Poetry, both old and new\n\nA poem that describes how the days of my life once were, when I had my own \"reputation\" on the streets, before I found my now dearly departed mate and let him convince me to attend college.","content":"\"Respect\"\n\nBy Ken Anderson, 13 September,\u0026nbsp; 2009\n\nNo, I've never felt  \nSuch calm and such peace,  \nAs when I have walked  \nThese crowded streets.  \n  \nWith nods and smiles,  \nThey call out to me,  \nTo offer me greetings,  \nOr something to eat,  \n  \n\"Do you need a smoke, sir? \"  \n\"Hey,\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;I've got some weed, \"  \n\"It's always good to see you  \nHere,\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;Mr. C.\"  \n  \nI just smile and I nod,  \nAnd say nothing at all,  \nI just give them a wave,  \nAnd remind them to call.  \n  \nThe dealers,\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;the junkies,  \nThe sets and police,  \nThey all know my name,  \nOn the cracked Houston streets.  \n  \nI know it's respect that  \nThey're showing to me,  \nFor all that I've done as  \nWho I used to be.  \n  \nThe scars on my knuckles  \nStill have yet to fade,  \nI carry my violence  \nAnd two deadly blades.  \n  \nAnd those who once knew me,  \nAs I was before,  \nThey bow and they nod,  \nAnd they offer me more.\n\n  \n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Poetry, both old and new","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1925267-they-called-him-fire.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1925295-i-am-not-afraid.json"}}