Scum – a poem

Beer cans, litter, used syringes,
needles that contained poison,
spread out in the income hall.
They had a party this Saturday,
it kept me up all night.
I felt the fright,
locked the bolts tight.
It isn’t the first blood stain,
to hit the graffiti-covered wall.
People die here,
for pocket-change.
This is the worst building,
the elevator broken,
they pulled out the wiring.
I take six stairs,
out of breath.
Is this my life,
having to experience this dread?

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