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Chicago through my eyes
Chicago is a city that never sleeps
From parties to clubs to talk shows and make over’s
Wake up to the sound of a bird that peeps
To men that acts like a 4 leaf clover.
To Mr. Confidence that stands on thin ice
Your life is what people see it as
Make it something, make it roll like dice.
Expensive diamonds that should be in class
But comes last as thunder comes after love.
What is Chicago to the people who live?
Death is my only hope for a white dove.
To a community that arrive in five.
It’s just a city I call home for now
So let me stand up and take a bow.
poem
by
Tationa Triplett
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