My eyes are blinded by soot

No excuse for what takes root

In my neighborhood when I

Choose to turn my blighted eye

Away from what I know is wrong

From a place where I still belong

Am I above the changes I see

Or do I wish they won't affect me

Everytime the next U-Haul pulls up

Do I sip from the hater's cup

Saying, I'm glad it's not mine

Or am I really the next in line

Old Victorians lined up in a row

Shedding their skirts for garages

As fast as new owners can grow

They ditch their tenants for lodges

A plague has infested my adopted town

Now feeds upon its rebellious heart

Am I the only recalcitrant clown

Who doesn't know when to depart?

[Edited 10/27/11 1:55am]