A long silence a deep wonder a hard puzzle now comes and settles on my mind. Flowing through the radio speakers I hear poetry lingering in a place that is known as an ill-ridden wasteland where poetry comes under attack by a deadly virus called ignorance. Broken homes, weak hearts, lost minds and dying spirits are haunted by it's presence, it's words pride themselves on killing any sign of consciousness to ensure it's victim remains in an encumbrance state where sistah souljahs are being replaced by Queen B's and lil kims masturbating on the intelligence of the young and the restless. Someone tell me what's happening to poetry? Whatever happen to the honor of being a poet? The sense of value seen to had faded out with african medallions and flat top haircuts into a non-existence. People who call themselves poets nolonger care about what seeds they plant. Whatever happen to the respect for the art? Someone please tell me what's happening to poetry?