growing up

Concrete Rose

I struggle, embedded in the pavement, my fight is everlasting, the elements are against me but my will to survive is far greater than the obvious destruction around me. The things that are supposed to destroy me I use to strengthen my resolve. I call on God when I am weak, he answers my prayers because in him I place my faith to rise from the bricks of this concrete jungle where it seems no one cares…

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Black Superman

I use to look up to Superman
I really looked up to Superman
The thing that use to get me
Is how he fly around the city
Close my eyes at night
Wondering if a little black boy could reach
Those same heights

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A New Story

A new community, new surroundings, new peers
A new school, new anxiety, new fears
A new hangout, new activities, new dangers
A new argument, new fight, new anger

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Suburbia

We drove to your parents’ home, out in suburbia talking about all the things you wish you could change.
Like that man you see for help with your head and the way you see yourself, or the way your parents run their house.
But that’s life in suburbia; where house wives drink all day, as the husbands work for the man for just enough pay.

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They Don’t Hear Me

The sound of my mother’s voice
“J.R. you are not dumb,
just pay attention”
as I sit staring at the math problems
the tutor has in front of me

but they don’t hear me

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