I had written a piece of prose a while back by the title of “Ghosts in the Ghetto” that I felt like turning into something lyrical and could be put to a melody:

Why are no horror movies set in the ghetto?
Can you bring one to mind?
Always camps, quaint towns, old homes and like kind,

But the projects are teeming with haunts,
and oppressive poverty flaunts.
Famished ghouls of addiction,
violence, and submission.
Poltergeists of abuse,
and banshees of aggression run loose.

Twisted demons preying on pain, and generational curses.
Every ounce of fortune reverses.
Abusive bias and statutes oppressin’ the destitute
No hope of absolution,
restitution, and no
proposed solution.

Those unaffected by the wraiths are blind.
Ignorance: whether innocent or of a heinous mind.
Turns out the past was not left behind.

Gaslighting such notions as shadows from elsewhere.
Blame the victim!
There’s no prayer,
just despair.
It’s unfair, trading the public’s welfare for warfare.

The priv’liged are solution reflectors
fearing the inspector’s detector finds
they summoned the specters.
I’m no respecter,
of such apathetic schemin’.
It takes a priest to cast out a demon,
but the parson is stuck in his prayers and reading.
Meanwhile, they’re mistreated and bleeding.

The oppressed and repressed have reached out for repose,
still the masses claim that nobody knows.
And I search for the Church to oppose the injustice,
but the truth just is
they presuppose
to interpose
would their beliefs juxtapose.

They’ve failed to give the Scriptures seniority.
No moral majority, authority, or priority.
The minor prophets,
major prophets,
the Gospel and epistles
call to care for the oppressed indvid’l no dismissal.

Though untouched by the phantoms, their fiendish work I see;
bringing those who God created in His image to their knees.
The problem is systemic, epidemic
Needing a passion for compassion,
and ears to listen with attention
to the discriminated host:
in the name of the Father, Son and the Holy Ghost.

You can read the summary in Matthew 25–
when at the judgement seat you finally arrive.
The Lord accepts those who “did for the least of these”,
the ones at His left, left the Lord displeased.
You can turn a blind eye to the marganlized’s plea:

but the apathetic priest
is gonna miss the feast,
and be greeted by the beast.

He suffered lots on the cross for the broken and lost.
Stop playin’!
You’re transformed, so stand for the forgotten and forsaken.
Love’s the place, grace the space of true disciple makin’.
“They will know you by your love”. I don’t know who you think you’re fakin’,
If you’re acting like your actions don’t matter you’re mistaken.

So step up royal priesthood, and do good
in your ‘hood, and their ‘hood,
for the common good, then we could
see the kingdom lived here and now.
Before at His feet we humbly bow.