There is a busy little city they call Madison Heights
It does not have the splendor of London’s sights
Nor the brightness of New York’s lights

But do you know what’s neat?
The way 696 and I-75 meet
This is Metro Detroit’s heart beat

There is something that is not funny
I speak of when a homeless man on Dequindre asks for money
They can’t afford the bus
As a society I esteem that a shame on us

Not many people drive in Madison Heights to stay
The rich man in the Corvette drives through after leaving the highway
Yes, this is the typical day

The traffic always causes a perpetual sound
There are numerous vehicles driving around
Do you know what’s vile
All that litter on Dequindre & Twelve Mile

They call it a city of progress
But the rat problem, someone must address
Also those ugly incinerators are the city’s shame
I think their hideousness gives us a bad name

Is all that co2 coming out of all the cars’ exhaust pipes good for my health?
Sometimes I think I’d be better off living in the rural down South
I’m poor and broke
And I think my inner-peace is about to croak

You know what, I have come to like this town
Despite the aspects that make me feel down
There is a place that I think should be renowned
It is Rosies Park’s friendly little playground

As you began reading this poem, I hope you didn’t get me wrong
I’ll explain and it won’t take long
Listen, I’ve experienced the marvel of the robin’s song
Even on the trails in White Hill when I walk along

Madison Heights has beauty I insist
Take an early morning walk through the nature center’s grand forest
You will realize the city’s wonders are too overwhelming to list

I know we don’t have Scotland’s valleys
It can be discouraging to see all the vandalized alleys
Yes, I’ve seen broken glass
As I’ve walked through feeling remorseful that I’m lower-middle class

Everything feels near
I rejoice at the fact that I live right here
Listen attentively and incline your ear

It’s nice how the stores are so close by
Living in the rural, I don’t think I would desire to try
Yea, Up North’s wilderness is beautiful I won’t lie
But driving forty minutes to get groceries would make me sigh

My bank and grocery store are close
I think that is what is important don’t you suppose?
I can conveniently buy food, fuel, and clothes

Head over to the civic center
The view from the top of the hill, what is better?
There is a pity
That more people don’t appreciate this city

Driving down 12 mile and I see so many restaurants
Now I know why nobody here hunts
Your heart can devour any delicacy it desires at once

I have high hopes for Mr. Hartwell
He loves the city from Dequindre to Campbell
The local economy’s potential I just can’t tell

Yes I do enjoy the parks
Despite my forbearance of so many hostile barks
There’re too many dogs
And yes, there is the presence of Detroit’s imposing smogs

You know what makes a new driver like me cower?
The thought of driving around the city during rush hour
The driving conditions in the evening make everyone sour
Oh and don’t worry this poem wasn’t intended to last an hour.

I’ll admit, I don’t understand the purpose of this poem
I know this town doesn’t compare to Rome
But you know what? I’m glad to call it my home