A Hatred for Home 

My home is far from safe.

It is far from a place to be proud of.

There is more hate than there is love.

There is more violence than there is peace.

There are more deaths & despair than there is life & happiness.

This is somewhere I am to call home?

A “place to be somebody” or a place to be another somebody dead?

This is Wilmington, Delaware.

A city full of murderous intent.

I’ve said how I felt about my city before, but the feeling just keeps growing stronger & stronger as time passes.

Crime is off the chain. Everyday there are sirens going off. Police, ambulance, firetrucks, you name it. Doesn’t matter if its day or night, not a single day goes by where you don’t hear any of those.

Wilmington is reaching heights no city should ever reach. Already known amongst one of the top most dangerous cities in America, it keeps representing why it deserves to stay on the list. More worse, represents why it should be at a higher rank than others.

I had a friend. Known him since elementary school, & all through middle & high school. Graduated & everything. Was on the verge of building his future & trying to stay off the streets. But unfortunately, one night he was shot in the head & killed. Nobody would’ve thought it would happen. It was completely unexpected. Eighteen years old he was, now can’t go beyond that because of his life being cut short. May your soul rest in peace my old friend….

Now he’s an addition to the list of young people killed over the years. A list that still keeps growing. And it also contributes to why Wilmington is leading the nation with the highest ratio in gun violence for young people. Surpasses already top dangerous cities such as Chicago, Detroit, Philadelphia. This is not something to EVER be proud of. And I’m still suppose to claim this place as my home?

I had a cousin, used to be next door neighbors to him as a child. We’d often play in the neighborhood with other children as well as being part of family cookouts & get togethers. Him & his family later move out. Haven’t heard or seen him in numerous years ever since. Unexpectedly, now at sixteen years old, the one & only time I hear of him involved him being shot & killed. Could not believe it. Haven’t heard or seen him in years just to find out he’s dead from a cold hearted bastard with a gun.

Remember or know of the young Amy Joyner? The news spreaded through the nation like wildfire. People across the states chimed in on how they felt about that disgraceful event. I was fired up myself. Little Delaware, a state that some people in the United States don’t even have knowledge of. A state that some do not even know was the first state to ratify the constitution. But to them, they’ll now remember it as the state that a young sixteen year old girl died at in a school bathroom fight. A reason to want to hate Wilmington, Delaware. I wouldn’t blame them.

I’m highly sure that there are so many people that can tell you of the people they’ve lost in this city to bullets that were meant for murder. You’d be surprise to hear of how many were under eighteen.

We can scream all day how we need to change. How we need to put a stop to the violence & killings. How we need to make peace with one another & prosper. But it all seems to go in one ear & out the other. Because the cycle keeps spinning. Living the same dangerous & foolish life with no care in the world for their safety or others, someone gets hurt or dies because of it, we all mourn & cry for a change & justice, but it all rinses & repeats afterwards until the next victim surfaces.

It is a constant war between the peaceful & the villainous. Not a day goes by where I don’t wonder if I’ll be shot & killed one day just by being outside minding my own business. Bullets have no names. They’re set loose by the one that pulls the trigger with the murderous intent & absolutely no care or remorse for the ones caught in the crossfire. It all can happen so fast. When they say life is short, it seems even more shorter when people are out here making it short for each other. 

This hatred I bare for my home will never end. How could it ever end? There will never be a change meaning it’ll never die out. It’ll keep feeding me more reasons to hate it. It’ll keep fueling my drive to getting out of this hellish place. Will I be able to succeed before it kills me like its killed so many others? Everyday is not promised. And when in a place like this, even every hour isn’t promised. You can be living one hour & be dead the next. I’ve heard & seen it happen so many times.

Nobody is safe. Not even the children. Not even the babies. Families are either locking their doors tightly so no one leaves or comes in, or are letting their children loose out in the streets unsupervised to where anything can happen.

People are dying for the most stupidest reasons. People think they have the right to take a life because they wield a gun. People think the gun gives them power. Take away the bullets, what power do you have? How corrupt could you be to take the life of someone’s son, someone’s grandson, brother, nephew, cousin, daughter, granddaughter, niece, sister, etc. Let someone take away someone that is dear to you, you’d feel that pain in a heartbeat. Why bring it upon others?

No mercy is ever shown. Cruelty, heartlessness, its sickening. Its just no end in sight to it all. I grow weary of this. I know many feel the same, but there’s nothing we can do. We can’t save everyone & not everyone wants to be saved.

Just when are we going to stop doing this to ourselves? When will our home heal from these deep wounds?

When will my hatred for home die away?



  1. 😦 Reminds me of home. It is hard, my wife and I know… Get out… Find a way. Seek the country small towns. Don’t give into that trust though. Still, lock the doors and arm the alarm. Watch the babies at play. The world sucks today.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.