Young Hoodlums
This poem is in my upcoming book of poetry, American Bug, now available for pre-order on Barnes & Noble and in my Etsy store. If you like this poem, please pre-order my books. Thanks for reading! :-)
Young Hoodlums
By: Nick Ulanowski
There’s a mini mart by 211th Street that we used to walk to
As we’d talk about our lives and our hometown crew
Singing punk rock songs just to pass the time of day
Not letting the status quo get in our fucking way
We’d walk by abandoned buildings and pass the broken glass
Hailing from the south side meant we believed we were tough and crass
We joked how we were young hoodlums but really, we were just normal kids
Trying to figure out this crazy world in a system that was rigged
As the rich got richer, our neighborhood got more blighted
As they closed down all the industry, they called our area “white flighted”
While that was certainly true, there was something else so obvious
Company owners didn’t care about us, they left our hood to rot in sloppiness
Some friends become your family and it’s important to stay connected
That’s why I stood by your side through thick and thin, never once neglected
Loyalty is a virtue that sometimes feels underrated
Everyone has their 15 minutes but then immediately is dated
In a world of trending hangtags and instant news, everyone is fickle
If I had a dollar for everything the public remembered, I wouldn’t have a nickel
When we were young and stupid, we never would hold back
We were just a bunch of punks up against a deck that’s stacked
We laughed through the good times and we partied through the tough times
Like, scrounging for change under the seats so we could pay a parking fine
We’re like brothers from another mother with a bond that’s never broken
And sometimes shared, spilled blood can create another connection left unspoken
