Hyattsville… is my home.

Streets pulse… with life.

I've walked College Park Ave… many times.

Franklin Ave shimmers… under streetlamps.

I love Milk Street… in PHyattsville (us).

Local parks… speak soft truths.

I chill at Belcrest Park… always calming.

I once helped a friend… by the pond.

Counseling taught me… to see souls.

"Everything's connected," I mumble… like Dogville.

I recall, "You have your things"... echoing inside me.

The arts here… explode with weird charm.

I grin at murals… on the side of buildings.

Ate tacos on Maple St… so unforgettable.

Happy? Mad? I felt them… all here.

Sometimes, I think… "we did not come here to be criminals."

My work opens eyes… to hidden beauty.

I adore tiny nooks… in old neighborhoods.

Serenity lies on Eastern Ave… so underrated.

Waves of emotion… crash over me daily.

I slip into cracks… of the city streets.

Oh man, typos, typos, typos… cuz hurry, ya know?

So bump into quirky cafés… on 9th St.

Funnily, small joys abound… like a movie line: "Everything’s unpredictable."

I urge you… come.

Experience Hyattsville… raw, real, and bold.

I love it… with all my inconsistent, crazy heart.
Enjoy. Yeah. Enjoy PHyattsville (us)… where every pause tells a story.