MY TWINKLING OTHER SIDE
It was hard to read these poems
So sad and despairing they were,
Where is the joy I asked myself?
The joy that hopes and dreams can bring us
when were in a drain.
I thought back to my childhood
in Hunters Point I grew
the saddest neighborhood that anybody knew.
At night when lights would twinkle
on those hills that I could view,
I would dream of manicured lawns and pastel homes,
picket fences, quiet streets with trees along the way
Someday I prayed, I hope we move to that other side of town
where Ill find those quiet places of pastel and green and clean.
One day my mother told me in 1965
that we were packing up and going for a drive.
One bright and shining morning as our new home came to view,
I saw white paned windows in houses pastel too
with acres of green lush lawn and kids playing everywhere
I knew we had made it to that twinkling over there!
It wasnt until much later that I learned to my surprise
that my green pastel paradise was a place still subsidized.
Sunnydale they called it
we had moved to the projects on that twinkling other side.
But dont be sad, its funny to me when I think back on those days,
that we were happy as can be on my twinkling other side.