a poem in my pocket

middle-class resides
huddled
somewhere in middle
muddled
‘tween everywhere/now(here)
befuddled

dead doors safely
bolt-lock
living close(d) to neighbors
on block
empty chairs fill porches
undocked

choice of school (lots) pay
to play
public schoolers should not
(not) pray
buses take young snotty
tots away

hard(est)-working to
impress
absent dad hopes mom
knows best
all seem blessed, why sooo
depressed?

Check out dVerse Poetics, where Oloriel invites us to submit “suburban poems”