Tupac's Rose

drafted
before the 1st pampers
ever met
his tiny, dimpled and perfect backsides,
drafted
into a war
no one meant to ask for
where enemies and allies
switch sides
like partners in a dance,
trying to figure out
who
is for now
and who
is forever.
drafted.
 
the well-meaning come in
from outside to fight;
they water young leaves
and watch as fierce heat
instantaneously transforms
water into steam into nothing
 
all the fighters pray
to whatever God they know
let this one
be the one
who stubbornly thrusts his roots
down deep
beyond concrete,
 
let this one
be the one
that becomes anchored
even while he is
stabbed by throw-away needles.
choked by mind-dizzying smoke,
trampled on by careless, too large feet,
again and again and again,
 
let this one
be the one
who rages enough
to grow
in spite of
blood, spittle, vomit
coating tender shoots,
 
let this one’s fury become channeled
forcing those roots
to wrap around Adàm
(the red clay man)
finding water,
 
let this one
be strong enough
discontented enough
hungry enough
to burst through concrete and tar
to redefine his world.
 
let this one
be Tupac’s Rose.

 

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zaidsong
Poetry
Free Verse
writing zaidsong
"We play da blues, so's da blues don' play us..." (Old Jazz adage)
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