# "Respect"

Author: MyOwnParasite
Tags: Crime, Hustling, Organized Crime, Poetry, gang, life, nonfiction, survival, truth

#5 of Poetry, both old and new

A 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.

"Respect"

By Ken Anderson, 13 September,&nbsp; 2009

No, I've never felt  
Such calm and such peace,  
As when I have walked  
These crowded streets.  
  
With nods and smiles,  
They call out to me,  
To offer me greetings,  
Or something to eat,  
  
"Do you need a smoke, sir? "  
"Hey,&nbsp;&nbsp;I've got some weed, "  
"It's always good to see you  
Here,&nbsp;&nbsp;Mr. C."  
  
I just smile and I nod,  
And say nothing at all,  
I just give them a wave,  
And remind them to call.  
  
The dealers,&nbsp;&nbsp;the junkies,  
The sets and police,  
They all know my name,  
On the cracked Houston streets.  
  
I know it's respect that  
They're showing to me,  
For all that I've done as  
Who I used to be.  
  
The scars on my knuckles  
Still have yet to fade,  
I carry my violence  
And two deadly blades.  
  
And those who once knew me,  
As I was before,  
They bow and they nod,  
And they offer me more.

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/7ejxNLwn
Part of the series Poetry, both old and new
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