The Projects

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I remember the first day we were introduced. A Warm Brooklyn day. You lent me shade as you towered over me and reached for the sky in 97 degree weather. In my heart I knew; standing right there at 3ft 4 inches that you knew GOD personally. As high as your nonexistent hands reached past the skies painted with purples and pinks as the sun set on the horizon, you shook hands with God, waved hello to Jesus and beat boxed for cyphers including Biggie, Tupac, Big L, and Pun. You pulled blessings from the sky and shared it with the less fortunate.

You knew everything, you had eyes behind your head at the base of your feet, and all over your chest. You never missed a beat. Though they abused you constantly; throwing trash at you daily and left your body branded with curse words graffiti pictures and filth YOU WERE BEAUTIFUL. Maybe only a Schizophrenic Brooklynite could understand your beauty even with desecrated insides.

We grew older and you stood strong but they labeled you weak. Surgeons reconstructed your outside but your inside remained the same. You still housed a heart, and you held me there. You lent heat when I needed it, you opened your eyes so we could see past our Brooklyn neighborhood. You taught us to LOOK DOWN on houses and their occupants as they looked down on you and us. You never discriminated against those you'd support. You showed hustlers love, gave addicts a place to shoot up and you even made room for prostitutes. You gave Christians a personal place to pray, children somewhere to grow, and artists a place to etch words into paper creating beauty.

You Are Beautiful though they don't see it.

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4 Schitzos Talking

Love the way you ended this....:)

I grew up in the PJs myself. I'll never forget where I come from. Good expression of love for a place that "they" label hell on earth. Only "we" see the beauty in it. :)

heyyyy girl very good post

projects is what some people call home.. we cant forget our roots...they have helped us grow..

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